Mastering Mia
by MaryMarvelous
Summary: When subservient Mia finds herself wanting out of an abusive relationship she joins the military. Meeting hot, fit men, she explores her sexuality and finds herself encountering more than one officer with erotic tastes, and a craving for control. Slipping into her submissive ways, Mia struggles with her own dark desires as she tries to find her one true love.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"She's not a bad person!" I yell, my fists clenched and held high, as if trying to pull down the powers of heaven to help me.

"You're too brainwashed to see what she's up to!" Ben's face twists with rage.

"No one's up to anything. She's my friend, we just want to hang out and have some fun."

"She wants to take you out to hook-up. How stupid can you be?"

"Hook-up, are you serious?" I sigh in disgust and continue, "Besides, no one can make me do anything I don't want to," I conclude, and then realize that isn't entirely true. Ben has always been able to make me do as he wishes. I hate him for it.

His hand falls hard across my face, sending my head snapping to the side. I want to cry as the burn penetrates my skin, sinking deep into my flesh. As I look up at him with watery eyes and quivering lips, his expression softens. He pulls me close, shoving my face into his firm shoulder. I feel trapped against his broad, muscular chest, and am reminded that he could snap me like a twig.

"I just love you so much. I see how easily manipulated you are by people, and I just want to protect you."

I remain still, too scared to react. I need to think. I have to be careful, couching my every word and action. It is a hard way to live, but leaving is something I haven't had the courage to do.

He strokes my hair and tells me, "Okay, you can go, but I don't trust Lynette. Don't drink too much, and call me if you need to be picked-up."

_I don't trust Lynette either, but I go out with her to get a break from you!_

I stay quiet, figuring it is better not to speak than to say the wrong thing. I realize what he gave me is a warning of what's to come if I don't behave as expected. I get the message loud and clear, he knows it.

I wipe away my tears and walk into the bathroom, locking the door. As I examine the red mark across my face I am no longer in the mood to go out, but I don't want to stay at home with him. He succeeds once again in ruining an evening. It's what he wants. No, I won't enjoy myself, but I'm still going out.

After dabbing on some make-up, I smile at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes are red and my face puffy. I hope the club we go to is dark. I need some time to think, without being distracted by thoughts of my appearance.

A car horn blows. I burst out of the bathroom, grab my purse and head for the door.

Ben blocks the way. "Hey, look I'm sorry."

"You're always sorry." I retort, feeling proud of myself for saying so.

"Look babe, I know…I just…it would kill me if I ever lost you." He grabs my hand and squeezes. I don't squeeze back. I can't look him in the eye. What a load of shit! They only way he'll lose me is when and if he kills me.

"I've got to go. I'll be back early anyway." I pull away and race out the door. The sun is just beginning to set and I see through the tinted car windows that Lynette is not alone. I am relieved that she is going to have someone else to talk to. I just want to have a drink, sit back and figure a way out of my mess. I have put four years into this relationship, thinking things will get better. One day I fear I will wake up old, and still find him lying in bed next to me. I shake the thought from my head.

"Hey girl," says Lynette as I bounce into the back seat and pull the door shut.

"Hi," I return, trying to act like nothing is wrong, but she's too flighty to notice.

"This is my other friend, Lynette."

"You mean crazy Lynette?" I ask, jokingly.

"Hey, stop telling everyone that," says crazy Lynette as she nudges Lynette. She doesn't look back to say hi or even introduce herself. It's as if I'm not even there. I watch her animated head bob as she jabbers away, never seeming to stop to take a breath. Her moon pie face is glassy and heavily layered with foundation, like a badly frosted cake. Her lips are painted bright red, in stark contrast to her pale complexion.

The girls are loud and I am happy to stay out of the conversation. They have known each other since high school. They haven't seen each other in a while, so I figure there is nothing wrong with giving them a little time to catch-up.

I focus on my situation and conclude I must leave Ben, but that would mean sneaking out unnoticed. That would mean leaving behind most of my belongings. We also share a car, my car, my graduation gift from my mother. I hate the idea of leaving him without a car, knowing that he'd probably lose his job if he has no means of transportation. But then why the hell should I care? He can afford his own damn car!

I start feeling dizzy and sick to my stomach as Lynette swirls up the ramp in the parking garage. She finally parks. We bounce out of the car and head down to the river walk, with no set plans on where to go. The San Antonio River winds its way through down town and is lined with shops, restaurants and clubs.

"I want a drink, good music and hot men!" belts crazy Lynette.

I wonder if she has already been drinking. She seems like a lot of fun, even if she doesn't like me.

We don't walk far before we find a club with neon signs, not the tacky kind you see outside of bars, but the nice, classy kind. Loud music is booming and I can tell it's a live band. Just our luck there is no cover charge since it's still early. We flounce in and head straight for the bar. Crazy Lynette orders beers for us. I try to slip her some money, but she refuses. Okay, so maybe she's not so bad and needs a little time to warm up to me. However, I insist that I pay for the next round.

We decide to explore the second floor and climb the crowded stairs, and much to my relief more people are leaving then coming. Techno music blasts, lights flash like shiny beacons, and people are dancing. Best of all, it's dim, making it impossible for anyone to see my face with any clarity.

The beer starts to kick in and I feel happy. We make our way over to a table where I relax and enjoy the lights while the Lynette's start to pose.

"So when is your cousin coming in?" Lynette yells over the music.

"He's coming tomorrow night," returns Crazy Lynette.

"Where is he coming from?" I ask.

"Edward's Air force base."

"Oh, how long has he been in the military?"

"Two years. It was his only option after graduating. He couldn't find a job."

I lean my face against my hand and imagine myself in full military fatigues, walking down a dimly lit street, and in the distance I see Ben. He begins to bark commands. I snap from my thoughts at the sound of crazy Lynette's too loud laugh. Noticing the girl's beers are empty, I stand, point to the bar, and make my way over to buy the next round.

A warm sweaty hand grabs my arm; I jerk away and look back, terrified its Ben.

"Hey," slurs the man, "You're very pretty."

"Uh, thanks," I say.

"You really are," he calls after me as I quicken my pace to the bar.

I shift my petite frame around groups of people and lose the creep. I order another round and return to the table. As we down our beers like thirsty sailors, a man approaches.

"Want to dance?" he asks me.

I'm feeling a little tipsy, but join him on the dance floor. At first I am self-conscious, but loosen up as the music vibrates through my body and sways me like a well-played instrument. My dance partner, on the other hand, is doing some weird robot moves. I try not to giggle, but hysterical laughter comes from behind as the two Lynette's join me on the floor and imitate his bizarre moves.

Before long my partner makes a quick exit. I feel bad about that. I know how much it hurts to be teased. I was tormented often as a kid. If my height wasn't poked on then it was my less than full breasts. My own family tells me I have a big nose and am hunched back.

Despite all my physical 'deformities' men still seem to like me. I never go to a club without attracting a decent amount of attention. Still, I dismiss most of them as horny creeps looking to get laid. I find it difficult to accept that some men may have honorable intentions. Maybe it's my way of coping with my ignorance of the opposite sex. What makes a good man? What signs should I being looking for? Are all good looking men total assholes? Ben is one handsome asshole, that's for sure.

I tire after a while and return to the table with the girls. No sooner than we sit down, Crazy Lynette springs to her feet and waves over a stumpy Mafioso looking, polyester clad man.

"Hey what's up?" he says with a Chicano accent.

I roll my eyes.

"Didn't I see you at the comic club last week," asks crazy Lynette as she sweeps back her dark tresses with a coquettish flip of the hand.

"Yeah, I do the comic circuit," he says as he pulls up a chair.

He runs his fingers through his too long greasy hair, maintaining its combed back pattern. He disgusts me, so I stay out of the conversation. It's just as well because it quickly goes from cordial to inappropriate.

"So when did you lose your virginity?" he asks crazy Lynette.

She sparkles and says, "When I was sixteen" – her eyes shift to Lynette and narrow – "just like everyone else."

"So how did you lose it?" continues the man as he moves in closer.

Crazy Lynette is thoughtful for a moment then says, "The window thing."

The man chortles. "What's the window thing? You jump out the window and land on his dick?" he asks and then makes a vulgar squishing sound.

"Ya know the window thing."

"No I don't know," says the slime bag.

He reminds me more and more of a Mexican Joe Pesci.

"Ya know, I snuck out the window at night," she says, and then throws her head back and giggles.

He scowls and rolls his eyes, then shifts his attention to me. I put on my best pissed-off face and stare at a TV hanging from the wall, watching the flashing video. He then turns to Lynette and asks her about her loss of virginity. I check my watch and see it's close to ten. My worry is not lost on Lynette.

She clears her throat, purses her lips and says drily, "I don't want to talk about this. It's time we get going. Mia needs to get back."

The man bursts into a fit of laughter. I stand, eager to make my escape. Crazy Lynette lingers awhile as Lynette and I walk away. We eventually leave together and the two girls bicker for a bit. I'm hoping to hear talk about Lynette's loss of virginity, and apparently at the age of sixteen. Her claims of virginity and waiting for marriage almost fooled me. I feel my face turn red as I begin to think about her criticisms of me living in sin. An incredible urge to push both bitches into the river rushes over me, but I resist because I need a ride home. On the drive back I tune out their conversation and think, in my buzzed state, about what I must do next. My mind is made up. I've mulled it over all night and I'm doing it first thing in the morning.

When I return home, I find the TV blaring, empty beer bottles strewn about the room, and Ben pacing like a caged animal.

"What's up with you?" I ask as I take in the mess.

"Wow, you're home early," he says surprised as he stumbles toward me.

"Yeah, I told you I'd be back early."

His smile of relief twists into suspicion as he gets close to me and sniffs like a dog over a hunk of meat. He grabs my arm, yanks me forward, and drags a heavy hand over my head. I suppose he thinks he is petting me, but scalping me is more like it.

"Look you're drunk and I'm tired. I'm going to bed," I say.

He retracts his hand and scowls. "Can't you ever show me any affection? I was worried about you all night!" he yells.

"Why? Why would you worry about me? I'm fine. Hell, I'm not even drunk. I told you I wasn't going out to hook up."

I try to control my temper and not let the alcohol get me into trouble. My cheeks are on fire and my body steaming hot. I want to tear off my clothes, but that will definitely send the wrong message.

He moves in closer and raises his hand. This time I don't flinch. I hold up one arm to block, and a fist to strike. I stare him in the eye, angry and defiant. He lowers his hand, stumbles to the sofa, and flops down in front of the TV.

_Is this your retreat you pathetic piece of shit!_

I tell myself, 'Mia, follow through on your plan.' I play it over and over in my head, just like I used to do in college when trying to memorize answers to a test.

I get ready for sleep and collapse in bed. I lay there alone, room spinning, and fall asleep.

I am startled awake when Ben begins to shake me by the shoulders. I open my eyes and can just make out his dark form, standing over me, like a menacing black cloud.

"What is it?" I ask, hoping there is a legitimate emergency.

"You slut!" he yells, spraying me with spittle. "How can you go out, acting like a whore and then go to sleep like a baby?"

His words are slurred and my mind becomes a mess. I am tired and cannot think straight, too tired to figure out the right words to say.

"I didn't act like a whore," I protest. "I went out and you allowed it."

I feel like an idiot having to explain myself to him as if I am a child, but those feelings are replaced with fear as I realize I picked the wrong words. He raises his arm and brings a burning slap across my cheek. He catches the corner of my eye, making it sting and tear. I raise my hands to protect my face as he continues to beat me.

"Stop Ben, please stop," I plead, and he does.

He goes into the closet, flicks on the light, and begins to rummage. Returning with a belt wrapped around his hand, I gulp hard and pull the covers up. He brings the thick leather strap down on my legs with a slap. It burns, but only for a moment. And then he brings it down again. Taking a deep breath I spring from the bed and grab the belt, pulling it hard, but he is too strong. He brings me in close and pushes me hard on the bed. My head snaps back and strains my neck. I collect myself to rise, but he has already cast the belt aside, removed his boxers and thrown himself on top of me. Putting a hand over my mouth, he shoves his penis into my vagina. I go limp under his crushing weight, hoping that once he has finished he will leave me alone. Ignoring the pain and holding my breath, I close my eyes tight and imagine I am somewhere else. When he finishes he rolls off of me and falls asleep.

Next morning I rise to the sound of running water. Ben is showering and I must start working on my escape plan. I grab my cell phone from the nightstand and search for the nearest Air Force recruiter. I then stretch across the bed, and call from the landline.

"Hello, I'd like to join the Air Force as an officer," I say.

"Thank you, I'll send you through to Cpt. Woodlow," says the receptionist.

"Hello, this is Cpt. Woodlow. Who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?" says the man.

"Mia."

"Okay, Mia what time would you like to come in?"

I hesitate a moment, distracted by the sound of the water shutting off.

"I can pencil you in at ten," he continues.

"Uh…that'd be great," I say.

I return to my side of the bed and pull up the covers, closing my eyes, pretending to be asleep. The bathroom door cracks open and steam enters the room, folding around me in a suffocating mist. Ben gently shakes my shoulder. I yawn, stretch and sit up. His dark eyes shine on me like evening stars and a sly smile stretches across his clean shaven face. The smell of his aftershave burns my nose and makes my stomach lurch.

"Hey, looks like you have some work to do," he says.

I pull back the covers, swing my feet to the floor, and blurt, "Hey Ben, I have an interview today."

"You do? You didn't tell me."

"I did," I lie.

"Where's it? "

"At the bank. They're looking for a loan officer, and they like the fact that I have an MBA."

"A Loan officer?" he chuckles. "Are you sure it's not some secretarial job?"

"Why would I apply for a secretarial job?" I ask, my voice piping loud.

"Well, you know how they build up these jobs, and you go in, only to find out its crap."

"No, this one is definitely not crap. I found it myself. No recruiter."

I stand on shaky legs. My stomach bubbles, but I take a deep breath and pass thoughts of vomiting out of my head.

"Oh well that's good. I don't know why you feel you have to go on every job interview a recruiter finds for you. Those people are shit…used cars salesmen. They don't deserve respect. I don't know why you always have to be so polite. How many times do you have to get burned before you snap out of it?"

"Look Ben, I know, I agree with you, but I'm telling you I found this job and it's not crap."

"What time's the interview?"He sighs in disgust as he runs his fingers through his wavy chestnut hair.

"It's at ten. I'll drop you off at work and pick you up at five."

He remains silent, his penetrating stare lingering on me as I leave the room.

"Ok," he calls after me, "but you'll have to make me lunch and meet me at the office at noon. Go make it now. I don't have a lot of time."

I want to tell him to shove his lunch up his ass, but I have a plan and I don't want to mess it up with more fighting. I make my way to the other room, stepping over the beer bottles strewn across the floor. _I guess that's what he means by a lot of work to do._ As I make my way toward the kitchen I see chips squashed into the carpet, and wonder if he chewed and spit them out. Then the smell hits me.

"Yeah, sorry I couldn't make it to the bathroom in time," he says with a smirk as he sneaks up behind me and jiggles my breasts.

I walk into the kitchen and pour myself a cup of hot coffee. I take gulps between pulling out the bread, ham and cheese to make him a sandwich. He hovers over my shoulder, dressed and ready to go, watching, never offering to help.

He taps his watch. "I have to be to work on time girly girl." He twists a strand of my hair around his finger, pulls then releases.

_ Shut the fuck up! Oh and why you're at it, drop dead._

I go to the bedroom closet, ignoring my rumbling stomach, food is not an option. I pull out a decent looking pant suit and slip it on. In the bathroom I check for marks on my face, but there are none, and my clothes hide the large welts from last night's beating. A generous coat of Make-up takes away some of my feelings of insecurity, and as I dab it on I eye the shower. A nice hot bath would be perfect, but I know Ben will not allow me time for it. Grabbing handfuls of my long golden hair, I race it under my nose and sniff. Hints of smoke still linger. I spritz body spray over my head and then run a brush through my hair. After quickly washing my teeth, I race toward the door, where Ben is leaning against the wall, my car keys dangling from his hand.

"You going to go to an interview looking like that?" he sneers.

"Yeah, what's wrong with how I look?" I feel self-conscious and wonder if I should change.

"Seems a little out dated, that's all."

"I don't have time to worry about that." I think he may be right, but it's the military for Pete's sake, they take anyone with a pulse.

"Did you even try to fix your hair?" He looks me over with disgust.

I slip an elastic hair band from my wrist, gather my long golden locks and make a pig-tail.

We head for my car and he, as usual, takes the driver's seat.

"You sure this is a legit interview?"

"Yes," I say aggravated.

"Okay, it's not something your friend Lynette found for you is it?"

"No."

"So what happened last night?"

"What do you mean?" I feel defensive, certain he is talking about my outing and not his beating. He has a magical way of forgetting about his assaults on me, and I fear bringing it up because it turns on me. It's always my fault, he'll insist, because of the way I behave.

"Hey, just asking," he says, amused. "Who was that ugly bitch in the car with Lynette?"

"Oh that's her friend Lynette, crazy Lynette." I'm taken aback by his apparent good mood, as if nothing at all happened last night.

"Wow that was some ugly transvestite looking bitch. No wonder you didn't hook-up. The guys probably took one look at her and went running."

I had to laugh.

"So if she's crazy you shouldn't be hanging out with her, either one of them," he says seriously.

"Yeah, you're right. I'm done with them both."

And I really mean that because once I sign the papers, it is not up to me where I go. One thing I am certain, I won't be in Texas. No Texas, no Lynette and no Ben.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Ben parks the car alongside the four story building where he works as head counsel for Pitkin & Catelli. He hopes to become a partner soon, at which point he plans to marry me. I'm glad it's his plan, because it certainly isn't mine.

"Okay babe," he says as he pulls up the parking brake. "Be here at noon and don't be late." He smiles, gets out of the car, and then turns back. "Oh and don't think about leaving me here, remember I can find you."

No, he doesn't know what I am up to. He always makes comments like that, given his police detective background. He started at the law firm as a spy, so to speak. He conducted surveillance operations on cheating spouses, prescription drug pushers, and any other maleficent persons. He fooled his employers into thinking he was a good guy. They actually helped him get through law school so he could join the team in a more 'professional' manner.

"Don't forget your sandwich," I say and extend my hand.

He slaps it from my weak hold, sending it to the asphalt. "I'm not eating that shit," he hisses.

_Dr. Jekyll, meet Mr. Hyde._

I am amazed by my ability to make light of the situation. I guess I am certain I am on my way to freedom and its okay for me to laugh now. Either that or this is my insane way of coping. It's like a bad movie starring me. It's a sad comedy. The abuse is absurd and my sticking around is so damn pathetic that it's funny. So why not let him enjoy his final minutes… hours… days of abuse. Yes, I am sure I will have to endure his crap for at least another week, but what's a week compared to a lifetime?

He shakes his head and says, "Oh, and do me a favor and fix yourself up." A sadistic grin creeps across his face. "You look like shit. I don't want my bosses to see you like this."

"Okay," I say through gritted teeth.

I shift over to the driver's seat and take off toward the Air Force recruitment center. There is no going back now, I tell myself. As I park the car in front of the white stucco building, I take a deep breath. Sickness overcomes me and I want to vomit, but I close my eyes and try to imagine myself free. But the prospect of being alone frightens me. I have never been completely alone before. Raised in a family that constantly berates me, pointing out my flaws, and critical of my every word and action has left me an emotional cripple.

I want to be able to stroll amongst strangers, and not be self-aware. Most people probably don't even notice me, but I feel like critical eyes are always upon me. I am never comfortable in social situations and beat myself up later for forgetting to properly introduce myself, make adequate eye contact or shake a hand. Most people would shrug it off, but not me. Things like that play in my head over and over again like a bad movie.

I am told by my mother that I have an odd way about myself, and that people just don't like me. It is tough criticism to swallow, and I wish I could just accept it as who I am, but I want to be a better person. I want friends, not the shallow fair weather types, but the good types. The ones whose shoulders I can cry on and not worry about making them uncomfortable. The ones who I can share my most pressing problems with, and get back good advice. But that's precisely what got me in trouble to begin with.

Enter knight in shining armor. Ben is a handsome man I met in my last year of graduate studies; he was in his final year of law school. I had been rooming with my sister Katie while she prepared for her dissertation for her PhD. We did not get along, never did. We roomed for 'economical' reasons. She always got involved in my business and when she turned my best friend against me, I had had enough. And that was about the same time I met Ben. Desperate to get out of my situation with Katie, I jumped into his arms, turning off all warning bells in my head.

I had seen firsthand how jealous he was, but I ignored it, maybe even enjoyed it. I was flattered by the attention. When he asked me to move into his apartment I leapt at the chance. I had rid myself of Katie, but what I had really done was trade in one asshole for another.

Ben was my rock at the beginning. I shared my every emotion with him. He listened and comforted me when I felt depressed, but then all that changed. Soon he used everything I had told him against me. My family was poisonous; therefore, I needed to cut them off, he'd say. I didn't want to be cut off. Distant, yes, but totally alienated from them, no. He hammered me into submission, and I soon became dependent on him for everything. And now, without an income, it is a dangerous situation to be in and I need out.

I pull down the little mirror in the visor and look at myself. I examine every detail of my face and whisper in my head, 'Mia you can do this. You're going to get out and meet new people. You're going to walk freely in crowds and not even be aware of yourself. You'll survive. But one thing you'll not do is pick-up with another asshole.'

I flip up the mirror, take a deep breath and grab my purse. Holding my head high I walk into the building and introduce myself to the receptionist.

"Hello," I say, "My name is Mia and I am here to meet with Cpt. Woodlow."

"Please take a seat. I'll let him know you're here," she says. She picks up the phone and talks in low tones. "He'll be out as soon as he can," she tells me.

I twist in my seat, unable to find a comfortable position. Glancing at my watch, I decide to give him fifteen minutes before making an excuse to leave. _Do I really want to do this? It seems so rash and frightening. Ben, at least, is safe. I know what to expect from him…Abuse. Mia…you can get through this. Your sanity…hell…your life depends on it. You must escape!_

Twenty minutes pass and I get ready to leave when the receptionist tells me he is on an important call and will be with me in five minutes. I wait, and thirty minutes later I am shuffled off to an office to meet with a thirty something year old man dressed in a smart blue uniform. The thought of a dress code irritates me, but living with Ben is worse.

We exchange introductions, and I start filling out recruitment forms as quickly as possible, wondering why they didn't give them to me while I was waiting. My palms become moist and my heart pounds in my ears. I am uncomfortable under the stare of the man. As if feeling it, he gets ups and excuses himself. I finally finish and shake out my cramped hand.

The man pops into the room and takes the forms. As he scans them, he explains the process to me. After the medical exam, there is officer training school, but that has to be scheduled for a different day. I want to get everything squared away now. Bam! Final! Grab my shit and be shipped to another state or country even.

"How long will the medical exam take?" I ask.

"The exam itself is quick, but the wait can be a few hours," he tells me.

"Oh and how long before Basic Officer Training?"

"A new session begins next Monday"

"And what happens after training?"

"You are immediately shipped off to your station."

"Okay so what next?" I ask.

"I'll get these forms processed and then call you to schedule your appointment at the MEPS."

"MEPS?"

"Military Entrance Processing Station."

_More delays?_

"Okay, so how long will that take?"

"Processing takes a day," he says. "Are you in a hurry?" He smiles like a child who just realizes something amazing.

_Of course I'm in a hurry you idiot. The military takes everyone, what's up with all the bullshit delays? _

"I'd like to travel," I blurt. "I've never travelled before and would love to see other states, maybe even other countries."

"We have a base in Japan."

"Oh, Japan," I say, feeling my breath escape me like a balloon with a hole. I am thinking small rooms, small places, and crowds of people on a small island. No, Japan definitely does not appeal to me. But then Ben would never travel so far to find me, if he were inclined to look.

"So I will give you a call tomorrow," he says and winks.

_Are you flirting with me? Yuck!_

We shake hands and I leave.

I sit in my car for a several minutes and crack the windows, allowing the cool October breeze to pass over me. Closing my eyes, the nervous tension starts to leave my body and I begin to breathe normally again.

_Oh shit! The time!_

I start the engine and glance at the dashboard clock. It's ten to twelve. No time for me to relax. I throw the car in reverse, back out then put it in drive. I tear down the road like a crazed maniac, the engine churning angrily with each change in gear. I don't want to be too late meeting Ben. It's not just the physical abuse that worries me, but the ranting, the non-stop ear shattering ranting.

I see him alongside the building, pacing, his face in a scowl. When I pull up he makes an expression as if to say, 'what the hell happened.' I glance at the clock and see that I am only ten minutes late. He pulls the door open which such force I thought he may rip the handle right off.

"What happened!" he yells.

I screw-up my face in an attempt of defiance, then say, "I had an interview."

"You're late! I told you noon. Get the fuck over!"

I start to slide over to the passenger seat when he shoves me, sending me head first into the door. I straighten-up and rub at the fast forming knot on my head. "You know that was completely unnecessary," I murmur.

"Unnecessary," he says in a mocking tone. "Do you have any idea how bad you've made me look in front of my bosses?"

I sit speechless, bracing myself for his rage.

He gets close to my ear, "Well, do you!" he screams.

My eardrum vibrates, feeling as if it will burst. I tremble under his hot breath as I choke back my tears.

"I was supposed to have lunch with them, and you were my excuse, but you didn't show!"

"I'm sorry," I quake.

We drive for several minutes in silence.

"So how did it go?" he asks with a sigh as if he is bored with my childish silent treatment.

"It went well," I say. "They may call me back for a second interview."

He smirks and says, "Sounds like a joke. If they were interested they would've offered you a job right away. You're not going."

"What?" I whisper as I turn to him, wide-eyed and incredulous.

"You're not going. You know it's a waste of fucking time, and you've already made me look like an asshole once. No, this shit isn't happening again." His eyes are tiny slits and his brow furrows.

I look out the window, my head is swimming. I have a fleeting urge to jump out and let a passing car run me over. I wipe at the salty streams that trickle down my cheeks. "You can't dictate to me what I can and cannot do," I finally say with determination. "This is my car. You need to get your own damn car!"

He slams on the brakes, shooting me forward. The seat belt jerks me back, digging into the flesh of my neck. The car behind us comes to a screeching halt. I watch in the passenger side mirror as a red faced man with clinched fists springs out of his car and marches toward us.

Ben stomps on the accelerator and sends us speeding down the road. He weaves in and out of traffic. I start to feel queasy. I throw my head between my knees and bile shoots out of my mouth, burning my throat.

Ben pulls off the road and stops. He laughs. I blindly fumble for the window button, but it's no use. I continue vomiting, and then the dry heaves set-in. Once my stomach is empty and calm I sit back, trying to turn off my taste buds.

"You done," he smirks.

My hands tremble and I cannot find my voice. He grabs my hair and pulls back my head. Reaching over with his other hand, he wraps his fingers around my throat.

"Don't you ever talk to me like that again!" he yells inches from my face, spraying me with spittle.

I feel his dark burning stare upon me, but I cannot meet his eyes. My lips draw into a tight line as the muscles tense in my face. Finally, he releases his hold on me.

I cower when he throws an index finger in my face. "You get it!"

I nod my head like a mindless puppet.

He turns the car around, and heads back to the office building. Coming to an abrupt stop, he shoves the gear into park, and then yanks up the emergency brake, making the cheap plastic handle whine in protest. He jumps out of the car, slamming the door behind him. I slink over to the driver's seat, worried that passersby will see my red, swollen face.

Ben turns back and I lock the doors. I struggle to release the parking brake. He pulls on the door handle, screams a string of obscenities and pounds his fist on the window. He warns me that I better be there at five to pick him up.

It is difficult, but I somehow manage to pull myself together and drive home.

When I enter the apartment the smell of vomit overcomes me. I still have to clean the mess, his mess. I walk into the kitchen and rummage through the fridge for some food, knowing I must eat, even though hunger escapes me. I roll up a couple slices of ham and shove them into my mouth.

I change into some old clothes, and get a bucket of soapy water and a scrub brush. Plopping down on the carpet, and holding my breath, I poke at the vomit. It's like crusty oatmeal, I pick at the surface until I get to the thick, moist under layer. Scrubbing, without looking, I eventually clean the mess.

I dispose of the empty beer bottles. I want to take a break and watch some TV, but I am determined to finish my chores before running out of time. Rinsing out the bucket and reloading it with fresh soapy water, I walk out to my car.

After finishing, I jump into a hot shower. Closing my eyes, I imagine myself in a remote tropical forest, bathing under a waterfall. The water caresses my body like a warm silken blanket as birds chirp a soothing song. But negative thoughts soon intrude my happy place, and I begin to worry about the time. I race out of the shower, dry off and change into tight fitting jeans and a bust enhancing t-shirt. I blow out my hair with a round brush, making large golden curls. After applying make-up and a few squirts of body spray, I head out the door.

I arrive ten minutes early to Ben's office and he comes out ten minutes late. He leaves the man he is with and taps on the driver's side window.

"Hey come on out and meet my bosses," he says jovially.

I shut the engine and hop out of the car.

Ben's eyes pop. He moves in close and whispers, "Wow, you look hot." Grabbing my arm he tugs me along. "Hey, Mitch this is my girlfriend Mia," he says with a giant grin.

"Nice to meet you," says Mitch as he extends his hand.

I give him a firm shake. Mitch fidgets, and I wonder if I missed a social grace. _Did I grasp his hand too hard or maybe not hard enough? _

"Where's Kevin?" asks Ben.

"Oh he's still inside, maybe you should check on him?" suggests Mitch.

Ben goes into the building, and I feel my muscles tense. My armpits become moist and my jaws begin to ache with nervous tension. Mitch shoves his hands into his pant pockets and exhales as if he has been holding his breath too long.

"I'm glad to finally meet you," he says, "Ben talks about you all the time."

"Really?" I say, incredulously.

"Surprised?" he jests. "You don't think you're every bit of wonderful he says you are?"

"Oh, no, of course I do," I stammer, and then feel my cheeks flush.

He smiles big and glances about, his sights occasionally falling upon me. I cannot help but notice his beautiful hazel eyes, and chiseled good looks. His upper lip curls just enough to show his pearly white teeth. As my heart begins to melt, my eyes fall to his chest and I wonder what lies beneath his expensive looking business suit. For one brief desperate moment I imagine myself free of Ben and with mister hot stuff instead. He seems amiable and well off. And he is nervous around me, me of all people. I jerk back to reality when Ben appears with boss number two. _What am I thinking?_ _If the guy likes me, then he's surely an asshole. I am a magnet for them._ I remind myself that I cannot be trusted when it comes to men. _After I rid myself of Ben, it will be a long time before I date again._

"This is my boss, Kevin," says Ben.

"Nice to meet you," I say.

Kevin looks to be in his mid-forties, making him at least ten years older than Mitch and Ben. He barely nods in my direction, and ignores the hand I thrust toward him.

_What did I do? Why did Kevin totally ignore me? Did I look at him wrong? Did I forget to smile?_

Mitch breaks the uncomfortable silence. "I'm heading to happy hour, if anyone would like to join me."

I so badly want to go. He seems so nice and maybe, just maybe he will sweep me off my feet and rescue me from the horrible Ben. _But what am I thinking? How can I be so stupid?_ My brain is screaming at me, but my heart is pulling toward Mitch. 'He's a stranger', I tell myself, 'and you know there is no such thing as a Knight in shining armor.'

Kevin politely declines the offer and says he must get going. He mumbles something about wife, kids and responsibilities.

I give in to my imagination, picturing myself strolling along an empty beach with Mitch, hand in hand. The sky is a palette of purple, pink and gold as the sun falls beyond the horizon. The salty ocean breeze brushes by me as wave's crash and water washes over my toes.

"We're actually expecting company," interrupts Ben, "but maybe some other time."

"Sure," says Mitch with a limp smile.

I'm disappointed too, but I need to keep my emotions in check. It's for the best. Besides, no one is going to save me from Ben, except me, and I have already set a plan in motion.

I jump into the passenger side of the car and watch with sorrowful eyes as Mitch strolls down the sidewalk. His hands are shoved in his pants pockets, head held high, and there is a spring in his step. I imagine he is whistling an old time song about a man who has found love at last.

"Wow, so what was that about?" asks Ben.

"What?" I say, playing clueless.

"You mean to tell me you didn't notice Mitch drooling over you?"

"Yeah, he was acting a little strange, but drooling?" I wave a dismissive hand and push out a sigh.

"You're pretending, how cute," he says, his voice lilting with a half-taunting humor.

I am waiting for the explosion.

"Would you be willing to sleep with him if it means a promotion for me?"

"Absolutely not," I retort.

He breaks out laughing.

"I'm just yanking your chain," he says. "Ha, that bastard must be eating his heart out."

_Yeah, keep gloating while you can._

Ben inhales deeply then exhales, releasing an 'mmm', as if he just smelt something delicious.

"You did a good job cleaning the car. It actually smells nice."

_Thanks asshole!_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I yawn, stretch and swing my feet to the floor. Looking over at Ben's side of the bed, it is empty except for a rose and a note that rests on his pillow. I grab the paper and unfold it.

'Mia, I'm sorry for being such a jerk. I promise I'll make it up to you.'

I lift the rose and brush the silky petals under the tip of my nose. The heavenly scent plays tricks on my mind, as I find myself wondering if I should give him another chance. Maybe he has been under a lot of stress and doesn't mean to be such a jerk. Casting the flower aside I remind myself that every time I forgive him, he goes back to being a jerk.

The phone rings. I am motionless at first, maybe it's Ben. Running to the other room I catch the call before the answering machine goes off.

"Hello," I say.

"Hello, may I speak to Mia?"

"Speaking"

"This is Cpt. Woodlow. I wanted to let you know that your paperwork has been processed and we need to schedule you for your medical exam. "

"Um," I spew trying to think of what to say. I want to cancel the whole thing. _Have I been acting rash?_ But I already signed and have no choice.

"Can you be in at ten tomorrow?"

"That…that's great," I sputter.

"Okay, good luck, and I wish you a long and successful career with the Air Force."

_Is he being sarcastic?_

I hang-up the phone, and feelings of dread fill me. _How am I going to get the car from Ben? Maybe if he stays in a good mood I can tell him I was contacted by the bank for a second interview, but he already said no to that. Maybe I can be seductive and get him to see my way._ No sooner than I have these thoughts than I get angry with myself. _Why do I need Ben's permission for anything? I am an educated woman, and even though I depend on him now, I won't always._ I know I need to lift my self-esteem, but it's so difficult for me. I am awkward around people, and don't trust myself to make right choices. _I am insecure, that's the word for it, but how do I get past it?_ What worries me most is the web of deceit I am weaving. _What will Ben do if he finds out?_ I have never challenged him to such a degree.

I hear echoing footsteps outside the apartment door. I freeze, like a startled animal. There is a jingle of keys and the deadbolt clanks. The door swings open.

"Mia, I'm home," calls out Ben cheerfully.

I grab my robe, draping it over my body. Reaching for the rose, I prick myself. "Ouch," I mumble and then squeeze my finger, watching a drop of blood grow, and just before it rolls off, I lick it. I make a start for the door, but Ben is already there.

"Hey precious, I've got something for you," he says and hands me a brown paper bag, stenciled with grease spots. Inside is a cinnamon pastry, my favorite. He grabs me by the shoulders and sits me down on the bed. Looking me in the eye he takes my hand. Streams of sweat trickle down the sides of his face.

"Good news!" he says, and then bursts with a giggle.

My hand grows limp and slippery in his sweaty grasp.

"What?" I ask, feigning interest.

"I got promoted to partner."

"Really, that's terrific!" I scream.

"Mia, you know I love you." His head tilts to the side and his eyes grow glassy.

My heart begins to pound out of my chest as I smile and nod my head. _Yeah, love me to death you bastard! _My stomach tightens into a knot. "Well, how did it go down?"

"Um, well Kevin really pushed for it, but Mitch wasn't on board, but fuck that bastard. I'll be running that place soon enough."

"I'm sure you will." _And hey, if the stress gets to be too much you can come on home and beat the shit out of me._

"Mia, I love you a lot, and I can't imagine my life without you. Will you marry me?"

The excitement leaves his eyes as I feel my face droop. I don't know what to say. I knew it was coming, but was unable to force a phony reaction.

_Why does he care how I respond? Surely he knows I don't love him. Surely he knows he I despise him for his abuse. How can someone be so oblivious? _

"Wow, you have really taken me surprise," I finally say as I raise my hand to my chest and start to sob.

"Will you…marry me?" He kneels beside me.

_This is a fine mess! Say no! Mia, say no! _I nod my head, refusing to say 'yes' because I know I won't mean it. _If I can keep him happy just a little while longer, then I can make a clean escape._ I long to tell him I hate him, but that would be useless. Most of all, I worry what will happen if I don't get away before he discovers my deceit.

He springs to his feet and embraces me. I hug him back, part of me wanting to give him a chance, but knowing his tenderness is short lived. If I marry him I will be in a lot more trouble. There will be no escape.

"I say we go out tonight and have dinner to celebrate," says Ben.

The corners of my mouth begin to twitch. "That sounds terrific."

Ben returns to work, but promises to be home early. I am left alone in the apartment, wondering how I should broach the subject of needing my car. Then my thoughts turn to Mitch. I wonder why he doesn't like Ben. _Does he see through his charade? _

I spend a good part of the afternoon getting ready. It takes almost an hour to blow out my long blonde hair, and straighten it. I then rummage through the closet for something nice to wear, something sexy, but it's useless, since everything I have is out dated. I settle on a semi-sexy black dress that's not too old fashioned. But as I examine the near rag, dangling on the hanger in front of me, I fall into a fit of sobbing. Collecting myself, I race to the bathroom to blow my nose. I wonder if marrying him will make him change for the better, but I long for my independence, and as I stare at my red, swollen reflection in the mirror, I remind myself that no matter how handsome and charming Ben can be, he is still an asshole.

Tired from the mental turmoil, I traipse into the kitchen, open the fridge and eye the cold beers. I glance at the wall clock, 'eleven', I mumble. 'It's almost afternoon.' I grab a cold slippery bottle, catch the edge of the cap on the counter top and slam it with my fist. There is a pop, and spray, like sea mist over a wave, rises from the bottle. I throw back my head and gulp. The cool liquid burns my throat and bubbles in my stomach, forcing a burp. I search the cupboards and find a box of pretzels. Collapsing on the sofa, I sit back, flick on the TV and scan the room, satisfied that it is clean. As I channel surf, I let the effects of the beer take over my body.

I wake to the sound of footsteps. Pushing my fingers through my hair I squint to see the clock. "Damn," I mumble as I run to the kitchen and throw my beer bottle in the trash. The familiar jingle of keys sends tremors of terror through me. I race to the closet and pull out the semi-sexy black dress, tear off my rags, and slip it on. I turn and Ben is there.

"Hey babe, you okay?" he asks.

"Fine," I say as I force a smile.

"You look like you've been sleeping." He pulls me toward him and embraces me with a warm gentleness I haven't felt in a long time. Burying his nose in my hair, he inhales, sending a cool sensation over my scalp. "You smell delicious!" He pushes his fingers through my hair, giving me a prickly feeling all over. "Your hair is so soft. It's looks terrific."

"Thanks," I say as I place my hands on his chest, feeling every ripped muscle with sinful pleasure.

_There'll be other good looking men out there. And surely one that will treat me right!_

"I'm going to call my parents and tell them the good news. Why don't you finish getting ready?"

I kneel down, searching through my shoes, finding a pair of dusty black stilettos in the back. As I wipe away the years of neglect, I wonder if they are out of style. But I don't have a choice; they are the only high heels I have. I slip them on my small feet and then race to the bathroom.

As I study my reflection in the mirror I hear Ben's voice rattling away as if he has just won the lottery. I can't imagine why he is so happy. _Does he really not see how he treats me? Does he really think he is a good man?_ I can't comprehend how someone can be so delightful one minute, then so damn cruel the next. Yet, I still wonder if I can make our relationship work. Maybe if he takes some antidepressants, but I know he'll refuse. I can imagine the beating I would get by even suggesting he has a mental issue.

I dab on some make-up and add thicker than usual eye liner and mascara. After painting my lips crimson, I brush back my hair with my fingers and wait. When I hear he is off the phone, I spritz on some body spray and saunter into the main room.

Ben's eyes pop. "Wow you look gorgeous!"

"Thanks," I say as I sweep back my hair with a flirtatious flip of the hand.

"I'm hungry, let's get going," he says as he races to the door.

We hop into the car, Ben driving as usual, and head downtown to a new Italian bistro. When we enter through the quaint wooden doors of the restaurant, the smell of garlic overtakes all of my senses, making my stomach rumble. The lights are dim, creating a romantic atmosphere. The host shows us to our table and I sink comfortably into the plush chair cushion, happy for once not to be sitting on metal or plastic. The plate in front of me is topped with a linen napkin, which I take childish pleasure in unraveling from its twisted shape. A real burning candle emits a golden radiance, its flame casting shadows across Ben's face. He is more handsome than ever, which makes my heart pang with self-distrust.

We are greeted by our waiter and he hands us large, leather bound menus. It is a relief not to be reading our choices off a back wall.

A young woman approaches and asks, "Can I interest you in a beverage?"

"I'll have a glass of wat-"

Ben reaches across the table and grabs my hand, "We'll have a bottle of Santa Margherita, Pinot Grigio."

"Excellent choice, Sir," says the lady.

Ben stares at me with a silly grin spread across his face. After several minutes of talk about work and how much he loves me, he finally says, "So I was thinking we can have the wedding around Christmas."

I struggle for words when the woman returns with two long stem glasses and the bottle of Pinot Grigio. She pours a small amount in a glass and hands it to Ben. He swirls it with an arrogant twist of the wrist, then sips.

He smiles, smacks his lips and says, "Perfect."

The woman fills his glass, and then mine.

I sip greedily at the wine, hoping for a quick buzz. "Will I be meeting your parents?"

"Of course," he says, "Maybe we can see them over Thanksgiving."

I smile and take another gulp of wine.

"So what do you think?"

"Yeah, great," I say as I wave my empty glass in front of him.

"I mean about the wedding date…around Christmas."

"Oh, that sounds great."

"You plan on getting drunk tonight?" he asks as he refills my glass.

"Uh, sorry, it's just this wine is so good."

The waiter appears and takes our order.

Ben stretches across the table, grabs both my hands, and looks me in the eye. His penetrating stare reaches the depths of my soul, and I struggle not to look away.

"Mia, I love you so much." His head falls between scrunched shoulders and he sighs heavily.

_Oh, God please don't cry! That'd be too much._

He regains his composure and looks at me again. "I know you must be scared. We've had some rough times…and I know I should treat you better. Can you forgive me and move forward? I promise to be better."

God I want to believe him. He could be the perfect partner if it weren't for his mood swings and violent temper. I know he will not change. I know it, and I repeat it to myself over and over to make it stick. _What do I say now?_ I fear choosing the wrong words. That could prove disastrous, dashing all my plans with one misplaced comment. I take a deep breath and ignore the swirling that has taken over my head. "You have been very cruel to me at times Ben, but I do love you and think you're a wonderful person. I just don't understand your anger. I do want to make this work."

"That's all I can ask for," he says.

He releases his hold on me when the food arrives. I stare at the steaming plate of lasagna in front of me. The smell of fresh tomato sauce mixed with garlic, teases my senses.

"Ben, for a long time now, I have wanted to buy some nice clothes. I'm tired of the old rags I have, and now that I'm going to meet your parents-"

"I understand," he says, "Go out tomorrow and buy some nice things. And not those old grandma clothes you like to wear. Get something sexy."

"I will," I say.

He shoves his hand in his pocket, retrieving his fine leather wallet. He pulls out a few hundred dollar bills and pushes them across the table. I take the money, quickly stuffing it into my purse. I look around to see if anyone noticed, no thank God! I release a sigh of relief.

"I can't have you looking like crap when my parents meet you," he says.

I smile and eat, thinking what an ass wipe.

Midway through dinner I notice his silence and catch him staring at me, his hands clasped together, elbows resting on the table.

"I love you so much, Mia," he says.

I watch him closely, trying to catch a twitch or any other sign of his lie.

He shifts in his seat, grabs one of my hands and says, "Mia, why didn't you ever ask why?"

_Are we on to something? Is there a reason why he is so cruel to me?_ _Is it some deep dark family secret? Is he finally going to share it with me? Maybe this can be a turning point in our relationship. Maybe he will be open to getting treatment. _

"Ok, then," I say. "Tell me why. I want to know. I deserve an explanation."

He chuckles, "Wow, you're so serious. Your reaction certainly surprises me."

"Why? Isn't it obvious how I feel?"

He shakes his head, "No, not really. I mean I thought you'd be wondering, but not be so upset."

_Is he fucking with me?_

I feel my cheeks flush as a wave of heat rips through my body. I have an incredible urge to throw my drink in his face. "Of course I'm upset. It's been four years, and if you want me to marry you, then you should tell me why you-"

He raises his hand, motioning me to keep my voice down. Reaching into his suit pocket, he pulls out a ring. "You're right. After four years, you deserve, at the very least, a nice engagement ring."

My mouth falls open. Just perfect, he thinks I am in awe of the two karat diamond he slips on my finger.

"Well do you like it?" he asks with imploring eyes.

How I want to love him. How I want to make this work. "Yeah…uh…it certainly isn't what I expected."

I never considered marrying him, so the thought of an engagement ring never occurred to me. I feel so silly now. I thought, no, was hoping, he would tell me why he hurts me. Understanding his torment and how he projects it onto to me would have been worth far more than some diamond ring.

We return home and he grabs my hand as we stroll along the flowered pathway to our apartment. My heart leaps as I think about our first days together, when he was still nice and I savored every minute we were together.

He closes the door, turns to me with lustful eyes and begins to unbutton his shirt. His massive pecs and bulging biceps make my thighs sing, and as much as I want to reject him, his perfect persona of masculinity hinders my judgment. I am breathless as he saunters toward me and draws me into his chest. He pulls my dress below my shoulders and begins to gently kiss my exposed skin. My mind tells me to push him away, but I unknowingly throw back my head and moan. He sweeps me off my feet and carries me to the bedroom. I slip out of my dress and fall back on the bed as he disrobes.

"I want to see you," he says as he flicks on the lamp on the nightstand.

A cold chill passes over me and I quiver as he approaches with a full hard on. He pulls my arms over my head and I willingly open my legs, letting him penetrate me. At first he is slow, but I insist he thrust harder and deeper. For once in his life he obeys, and I grab his rock hard ass pulling him closer to me. A mixture of pleasure and pain fills me and I climax like I never have before.

Afterward he rests on his elbow and strokes my hair. His eyes sparkle with a happiness I have not seen in years. "Where did that come from?" he asks.

"I don't know," I admit, not understanding it myself. I turn away from his gaze, feeling embarrassed by my behavior.

"Don't be shy," he says playfully. "It's okay, I liked it. I don't mind spicing things up a bit."

He leaves. I straighten myself in bed and pull the covers over my naked body. Secretly I wonder if his assault warped my mind in some way that I now see sex and violence as not only perfectly acceptable, but also immensely pleasurable.

Yet despite his charming personality tonight, and perfectly planned everything, I still hate him. I tell myself it will only be a matter of days, maybe even hours before he is back to his true self. I decide this evening I am in control and it will be my fondest memory. Him thinking we are going to have a life together, and me planning my escape.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The next morning the smell of bacon and eggs lures me out of my sleep. I ease out of bed and saunter to the other room. The small plastic dinette in the far corner is set with plates, and Ben is in the kitchen, busily flipping pancakes and frying eggs.

"Need some help?" I ask.

He looks up. "Hey precious, you're awake!"

"Yeah, why aren't you at work?"

"I'm going in late today. I told them the good news, and they told me to take my time."

"Really, huh, that's nice." I hope he leaves soon.

"Yeah, they say I should enjoy the honeymoon now, because things are going to heat up, especially now that I'm partner."

"I guess so."

"Sit at the table," he says, then rushes over and kisses me on the lips. "I'm almost done."

I sit down. Then, as if a dam breaks, feelings of guilt flood me. _Did he mean what he said? That he is going to be different? That he is going to treat me better?_ At this point it no longer matters. I have committed myself to the military.

Ben floats into the room and plops pancakes on my plate. I nibble at my food, pretending to have an appetite.

"How's the food?" he asks.

"It's delicious," I say, and force a smile.

"Well if you hadn't slept so long princess I could have spent more time with you." He grabs the keys and heads for the door.

"You need to get going?" I say. "Uh…let me get dressed. There is a really nice dress I want to buy."

"I don't know babe, I don't have much time."

"It has spaghetti straps," I say. "You'll love it. Just let me slip on some clothes real quick." I shoot him my best smile.

I race to the closet, throw on some jeans and a tee shirt. I go to the bathroom just long enough to brush my hair and teeth.

"Ready," I say as I sprint to the front door where Ben waits. I stand on my toe tips, place my palms on his rock hard chest and give him a passionate kiss.

He hands me the keys and tells me to drive.

"Ben?" I ask as I shift gears. "Did you mean what you said?"

"That I love you," he says playfully, and rests his hand on mine.

"I mean, that you want to treat me better."

"Sure babe, we just need to work out our problems."

_Our problems!_

"So why is it that you beat me…and raped me?" I stammer.

"You just have a gift of bringing out the worst in me Mia," he says. "You show me no affection! As much as I love you, why can't you love me back?"

"Uh…because you hit me, and say cruel things to me," I whisper.

"Because of you!" He slams his fist on the dashboard.

"Okay, I'm sorry, Ben," I say, my voice even smaller than I feel. "You're right. I think last night was a testament of how I feel for you, and I'll try to be more affectionate. We enjoyed each other's company last night, didn't we?"

Ben sighs heavily, squeezes my hand and says, "Yes, we did. Do you love me?"

"Of course I do, silly." I keep my eyes on the road, hoping my higher than normal pitched voice does not reveal my deceit.

_Nope, sorry, nothing doing, there is no second chance for you!_

Feelings of relief rush over me as I drop him off at work. I look about, hoping to see Mitch again, but then scold myself for being so pathetic.

"Pick you up at five?" I ask.

"Sure. I love you."

"Me too," I lie.

I have thirty minutes to get to the MEPS. As I race down the highway, I feel more convinced than ever that I am making the right choice. Feeling mad at myself for even trying to make things work, I vow to always trust my instincts.

I park in front of the large brick building and race up the stairs. I am told to take a seat until I am called. An hour passes and I start to feel anxious. It takes great effort to resist looking at my watch. Even though I have until five, I still need to buy a spaghetti strap dress to prove I was shopping. I am starting to feel like I drove here for nothing, and know if I leave now feelings of emptiness will take a cruel hold of me, and I'll never come back. But I have no choice because I already signed.

My mind is a frantic mess as my thoughts dart from where to shop, to meeting Ben on time, to getting to officer training school.

Another half hour passes before I get called back for the medical exam, and it is quick. Afterward, I go to a recruiter's office to receive my assignment. I glance at my watch; I'm running out of time.

"Okay, Mia, we can schedule you for Officer Training School." He pauses to look over some papers.

"Okay, when?" I ask as I slide to the edge of my seat.

"Well, the next session begins next Monday. So that gives you a week to pack."

"Where, and what time?"

"You'll need to check in at o-nine hundred at Gunter Annex, Alabama."

"Great, thanks!" I say and make a start for the door.

"Whoa," he says. "Do you know where you're going, and do you have transportation?"

I hesitate a moment. "Yes, yes I do."

_Ben will have to get his own damn car!_

"I just need to make a copy of your driver's license. You understand your job with the Air Force and you are certain you want to join?"

"Yes, I am certain…oh…and where will I be stationed."

"Japan," he says, "Now if you can just sign here."

_Japan! I don't want to go to Japan! _

"Wait…uh…Japan wasn't on my wish list."

"Yeah, well that's not guaranteed. We happen to have a need there."

I race to the side of the desk, quickly sign before I change my mind, and hand over my license.

He smiles and says, "Pack everything you plan to take because you'll be shipping out right after OTS."

I nod my head and run out the door. Thinking I hear him calling after me, I quicken my pace.

I manage to get all my shopping done, and when I pull alongside the office building I see Ben, his back toward me. Mitch is standing with him. A lump rises in my throat like a jagged rock, blocking my windpipe. I glance at the dashboard clock and see I am ten minutes early. Ben turns around, a giant smile stretched across his face. I exhale, not realizing I had been holding my breath, and my muscles start to relax. He walks over and taps lightly on the car window.

"Hi Ben, what's up?"

"C'mon out and say hi to Mitch."

"Uh…okay." I shut the engine.

Ben grabs my arm and pulls me close, catching me as I trip over the curb. "What the hell are you wearing," he whispers in my ear.

"Sorry, Ben," I quake, "I didn't know I was going to see your bosses today."

"They're not my bosses; remember I'm a partner now," he hisses.

"Uh…I'm sorry." The lump tightens and now feels like a squirmy frog trying to escape.

Ben loosens his grip on me as we approach Mitch.

"Hello, Mia, it's nice to see you again," says Mitch, his face wreathed in a smile.

"You too," I say with a gulp.

"So I hear you and Ben are going to get hitched."

"Yes," I say as my eyes dart toward Ben. My heart pounds like a fist. I tug at my shabby tee-shirt, and then start cracking my knuckles. Mitch's curious stare makes me stop, and I shove my hands into my pockets.

Ben stretches his arm across my shoulders and sighs, "I know…we've been together for quite some time now, and she's wanted to marry for a while. The timing just seemed right."

There is an uncomfortable silence as all eyes fall on me. I'm speechless, releasing only a nervous giggle.

A look of amusement spreads across Mitch's face. "Well, I think this is cause for celebration," he says.

"Yes, we had a very romantic dinner last night, didn't we Mia?" says Ben as he gives me a jolt.

"Yea," I squeeze out, through jaw muscles so tense I can barely open my mouth to speak.

"I was thinking I'd take you two out tonight for drinks, my treat."

My heart skips a beat and I cannot restrain the smile that pushes forth from deep inside me. I stare intently at Mitch's chest, once again trying to imagine what lies beneath his expensive Pierre Cardin dress shirt.

"I was thinking the Scarlet Lounge," says Mitch.

He catches me looking, my checks flush and I shift my eyes to the ground.

"Oh, well Mia here isn't dressed for such a fancy place. I'm sorry-"

"I can always change into my new dress," I blurt.

_What did you just say? Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!_

"There's a ladies room on the first floor," says Mitch as he twists and points to the oversized glass doors that adorn the opulent office building.

I push my fingers through my hair, and then race to the car, pop the trunk and pull out my shopping bag.

Ben creeps up behind me. "Did you buy the nice dress with the spaghetti straps like you said?"

"Yea, I sure did," I say. "Uh…Just for you," I add.

"Great, get it on, I want to see," he giggles. "Let that bastard eat his heart out!"

I run to the bathroom and slip on my new tight fitting red silk dress. The ruche body flatters my figure and I actually stare at myself in the mirror, amazed by how good I look. I put on the strappy shoes I bought to match and begin to pose like a movie star. But my self-esteem falters as I look closer at my sallow skin. Rummaging through my purse, I find some powder and lipstick. After making myself up, I pose one last time, and then leave to meet the men. Mitch's eyes pop, and his mouth falls agape. Ben is equally amazed and smiles like a man who just hit the jackpot.

"We ready," says Mitch, "We can walk. It's only one block down."

Ben walks between me and Mitch, and I struggle to keep up as I wobble in my heels. My ankle twists and I try to continue without being noticed, but my agony doesn't escape Mitch.

"You okay?" he asks.

I'm infuriated by my pathetic display.

_I'm simple, what was I thinking? That I'm a movie star, maybe a model?_

"I'm fine-"

"Aw, she'll be all right," interrupts Ben.

I regain my composure and concentrate hard on placing my steps. The chill in the air begins to seep through my flesh, making me shiver. I feel so stupid, stumbling along and, at the same time, clasping my arms around myself like a frozen Popsicle. It's as if I'm a little girl failing at playing dress-up. What was I thinking, I'm anything but glamorous.

When we reach the bar, Mitch opens the door and Ben pushes past me. A warm hand falls on my shoulder and I turn to meet Mitch's gaze.

"You're freezing," he says, and then removes his blazer and gently wraps it around my shoulders.

"Thank you." I respond with downcast eyes.

"No problem, now what can I get you to drink?" He claps his hands together and smiles.

"I'll have a scotch on the rocks," I say.

"Whoa, I figured you for a daiquiri kind of gal."

"What, fruity?" I blurt dryly.

"No," he laughs. "You just seem very sweet and light, that's all."

"Oh, I guess I am a daiquiri girl, then," I say, feeling ashamed by my knee-jerk response.

_Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!_

"Hey, what happened to you two?" asks Ben. "I found a table in the back. I'll have a gin and tonic." He slaps Mitch on the shoulder, making him stumble.

As Ben and I settle at the table, he slides close, tugs at Mitch's jacket and says, "Wow, I think he loves you."

"No, he's just being polite."

_You could have offered me your jacket you son of a bitch!_

"Yeah, right, he just wants to get some. If you weren't such a dyke, you'd be able to walk in those shoes."

"Hey guys, I think I got the order right," says Mitch as he joins us.

I sip greedily at my drink and let the alcohol run its course. Often I catch myself staring at Mitch. At first I turn away with embarrassment, but eventually let my gaze linger longer and longer.

"So when is the big date?" asks Mitch.

I roll my eyes and point to Ben. "He says Christmas."

"Yeah," says Ben, and he begins to fidget. "When it's cool out, I can't take the heat." He throws back his head, finishing his drink. Beads of sweat lose their hold and trickle down his temples.

Off and on I engage Mitch with pleasant chit-chat. I imagine we are alone on a romantic rendezvous and he is the one who has proposed to me. I then scold myself for the thoughts, and try to maintain a sober façade.

"Can I refresh anyone's drink?" asks Mitch with an air of sophistication as he rolls his hand. He begins to giggle in a cute school boyish way that makes his innocence transparent. I am convinced he is a good guy, but I remind myself that I am not a sound judge of character.

"Yes!" Ben and I yell at the same time.

After he leaves, Ben thrusts his face inches from mine. "What's going on?" he asks angrily.

"Uh…what do you mean?" I force myself to look at him with questioning eyes. Masking emotions is easy once my inhibitions drown in the alcohol.

"You're acting all weird, like hostile toward me." He grips my hand and squeezes.

"Hostile? How?" I try to retract my hand, but he holds tight like a snare.

"You're acting like you don't want to get married." His brow furrows and his eyes turn cold.

"No, I am just a little tipsy; you'll have to ignore me." I reach up and sweep my fingers through the curls that fall, moist and full, along the side of his head.

Releasing his death-like hold, he swats my hand away. "You want to fuck this guy?"

Mitch returns and I gulp down my drink. The alcohol now pulses through my veins like a raging river and the glamorous, self-confident me emerges.

"Oh," I blurt, capturing the attention of both men. "Gosh, I'm sorry, but I need to use the restroom and well, to be perfectly honest, I don't think I can walk there, not in these shoes."

"So take them off," says Mitch with a laugh.

"That's what you get for drinking too much," Ben says sarcastically.

"No, I'm just a little tipsy," I say with decision, ignoring Ben, "and these shoes don't help…I'll take them off."

I free my feet and stand, but my legs turn to mush, causing me to stumble into the table. I steady myself, and take a deep breath, in preparation for my flight to the ladies room.

Mitch springs to his feet. "Whoa, let me help you."

"She can go by herself," Ben chortles, "hell, this is funny. Go Mia, go to the bathroom. It's only on the other side of the room." He bursts into a fit of laughter, attracting the attention of nearby customers.

_What a dick!_

"No, c'mon, I'll help you," says Mitch.

He slides next to me and whispers to wrap my arm around his waist and hold tight. As we walk, the warmth from his body seeps into mine. That, combined with the light scent of his cologne makes me tingle with excitement. His waist is firm, and I unknowingly begin to squeeze tighter. As if responding to my sinful thoughts, he stretches his arm further around me and rubs my bare shoulder. His touch is warm and soft, like a fresh sheet out of the dryer. I want to melt into him and forgot about Ben and the military, but my voice of reason nags me. _I can't let myself fall into the trap of another man. Sure Mitch is a gentleman, but for how long? Ben was very charming, too, at first._

Through blurry eyes I see the ladies room door and pull myself from Mitch's hold. I race to a stall and lock myself in. I force myself to vomit, hoping it will relieve the spinning in my head. I stumble to the sink, cup my hands, and take several large gulps of water. Then, panic fills me as I wonder how I am going to make it back to the table. I pushed Mitch away with such force, I'm certain he has been offended and has left. Taking a deep breath, and brushing back my hair, I stumble out of the rest room and, to my surprise, and relief, Mitch is waiting for me.

"Are you okay?" he asks as he extends a concerned hand.

"Sure," I say as I wipe the corners of my mouth, hoping there is no residual vomit.

He grabs me by my shoulders and turns me to face him. "Mia, are you happy?"

"Of course I am…why?" My smile settles into a thin line of anger.

"You just don't seem happy. It's just…you don't strike me as the type of girl that gets drunk all the time. If I didn't know any better I'd say you want to drink away your engagement, not celebrate it." His expression hardens as the smile drops from his face.

"You base that on me having a little too much to drink? I'm just not used to drinking, that's all." I feel my checks flush as my temperature rises.

He reaches out, lifting my face in his hands. "Look, Mia, you seem like a very nice girl and I think you deserve better."

"Oh really," I say as I stumble away from him and rest my hands on my hips.

"Mia, I saw what happened." His eyes drift away from me and his face wrinkles. Placing one hand on his hip and resting the other on his chin, he opens his mouth to speak, but stops.

"What are you talking about?" I demand.

"I saw him…Ben, the other day yelling at you in the car, pounding his fist on the window." He reaches toward me, but stops, as if expecting rejection.

"Really, huh, well I was late picking him up." I wave a dismissive hand.

"And you don't think his reaction was a bit drastic?" He shakes his head and sighs.

"It wasn't like he hit me," I retort.

"I also saw him shove you into the passenger seat door." He reaches up and gently rubs the bump on my head. I wonder how he found it, hidden beneath my hair. I forget, reach up to touch and meet his hand. I quickly retract. My heart strings pull toward him, but my brain screams at me to snap back to reality.

"So you just throw this out at me in bits and pieces until you catch me in a lie!" I am numb, barely able to feel the warm salty streams trickling down my cheeks.

Mitch wipes away my tears. "Mia, I just didn't want to upset you by letting you know what I saw. I just, well, I can see Ben has anger problems and, well, you're such a beautiful girl with so much to offer. I just want to make sure you're happy, because you don't act like you're happy."

"Okay, you're right," I say as I stumble away from him once again. "He's terrible and I don't want to marry him, but I'm not going through with it, so don't worry about me. Besides you don't even know me."

"Ok, I understand. I just want you to know that I'm a friend." His eyes cloud with concern.

"I don't need another friend," I say, and then gasp as a terrible thought crosses my mind. "Did Ben set you up to this?"

"Absolutely not," he says. "Look, I don't deny I'm attracted to you, but I want you to know that I understand what you're going through, and I want to help if I can."

"How could you possibly understand?" I'm burning with rage.

He walks toward me, gently squeezes my shoulders and says, "Mia, my mother was battered by my father. I watched him beat the shit out of her almost every night, and she never left him." His face twists in pain as he holds back tears.

"So what happened," I practically whisper.

"He got drunk one night, and was killed in an automobile accident. Most kids would mourn their father's loss, but I, well, I was relieved."

"Are you lying to me," I demand. "I don't want another liar trying to get into my pants."

He sweeps back my hair and says, "No, I'm not lying. I'm just concerned, and I'm not trying to get into your pants."

His eyes burn like evening stars and my heart fills with self-distrust. He seems so wonderful, and before I can think, I find myself thrusting forward and kissing him.

He pushes me away gently. "Look Mia, you've had too much to drink. When you're sober we can get together and talk. Start as friends, okay?"

I release an uncomfortable giggle, wipe at my eyes and say, "Okay."

He reaches out and hugs me, then steps back. "Mia, you're trembling."

"Sorry, I don't know what I was thinking by wearing this dress without a proper wrap." I furiously rub my arms, trying to generate heat.

"We better get back before Ben gets suspicious," he says.

_Damn Ben! I bet he is going to be furious!_

As we walk to the table, Mitch holding me steady, I see Ben slouching in his seat, flipping a piece of paper between his fingers. He grins and says, "Oh, wow, you're back. I was beginning to wonder what happened to you."

"I got sick," I say, "but I feel much better now."

Mitch grabs his blazer from the back of the chair and drapes it over me. I go to sit, but Ben blocks me and says it is time to go.

"Oh, by the way, this is for you," he says and hands the paper, the bill, over to Mitch.

"Oh, sure," says Mitch, "Well, I hope you enjoyed yourselves. I wish you the best in your marriage." He winks at me from behind Ben's back.

"Yeah, great buddy," says Ben perfunctorily, "We should do this again some time."

"Wait my shoes!" I reach under the table and grab my sandals. Ben clutches me by the arm, and I am unable to slip them on. I turn back, looking at Mitch as I am dragged out of the bar. Trying not to stumble, I concentrate hard on where and how I am walking. I am incensed by Ben's behavior and when we exit I tell him so.

"I don't give a rat's ass how you feel," he hisses, "You want to fuck him?"

I slap him across the face. Never having struck anyone in my life, I am more shocked than him. His expression changes into a cruel scowl and he raises his hand, but stops as passersby look on.

"Yeah, I guess you do want to fuck him." He tightens his grip on me and pulls me down the sidewalk, as if I am a feisty child fighting her parent.

I hobble along, feeling helpless and humiliated. An intense pain shoots through my foot as I stomp on something sharp. I look and see a trail of blood. Panic fills me and I resist Ben's pull.

"What is wrong with you, you stupid bitch!"

"I'm hurt, let me go!"

He continues to pull. I yank free and yell, "God damn it, let go of me, I've cut my foot open! What's wrong with you anyway! You said…you promised…you'd treat me better." I break down and sob.

Ben drags his fingers through his hair and sighs heavily, as if he has reached his wits end dealing with an unruly child. As I look up at him with imploring eyes he puffs his cheeks and forces a smile. His hand shoots up and waves. I turn to see Mitch strolling down the walk toward us.

"Everything okay?" asks Mitch, his usual happy-go-lucky look having left his face.

"Yeah, yeah, Mia here just hurt her foot," says Ben, "but we'll be all right."

Mitch races to my side and slings my arm over his shoulders. "I see a lot of blood. You may need stitches. Let's find a place to sit so I can have a look."

"There's no place to sit," says Ben as his eyes dart around. "We'll go to the car and I'll take a look."

He throws my other arm around his neck and tells Mitch he can leave. My arm slides off Mitch's strong shoulders as Ben pulls me away. My heart sinks like a rock in water. I look back, smile, and give a little nod of the head, letting him know everything is going to be okay. He nods in return, shoves his hands in his pockets and watches as we leave. A faint smile shimmers across his face, but even in the dim night I can see worry, maybe even fear in his eyes.

_Mia, this guy is a good guy, I just know it. I can feel it._

"Look Mia, I'm sorry…I know you are a beautiful woman and guys are going to want you, but you have to remember it's mostly about them wanting to rub in my face that they can snatch you away from me." The muscles in his forearms tense as he grips the steering wheel.

"So you're more worried about being one upped, then how you treat me, and how I feel about the way you treat me?" I stare at him in disbelief.

"Okay, I get a little jealous. I know how guys think, and you're just so weak."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," I say. "I'm weak, why, because I stick around with an asshole like you?" My heart races and my head throbs. I expect a slap to the face, but nothing.

"Mia, I have worked too hard to make you the person you are. When I met you, you were a little mouse. You couldn't do anything for yourself. I helped you build your self-esteem. I want to show you off, but I don't want someone else to benefit from my work," he says in a mellow voice, full with sincerity.

"Do you have any idea how insane you sound?" I examine him closely, looking for a movement, an expression, anything to indicate he is joking, but nothing.

"You just don't know how guys think." He releases an aggravated sign. "Look at Mitch, for example, he's playing to your fantasy with his nice guy act, but all he wants to do is fuck you and rub it in my face. Can't you see that?"

"Not really, and I don't even care. I'm not interested in Mitch," I lie. "All I know is that I was cold and he gave me his coat, and he tried to help me when I cut my foot." I cannot mask the hurt in my voice.

"It's all an act, he doesn't care. He has a reputation of screwing all the women at work. He acts nice, loves 'em and leaves 'em, Mia."

"Doesn't matter, I'm not planning on sleeping with your partner," I reply through the sudden constriction in my throat.

"I just want to protect you." His eyes leave the road and fall on me.

I refuse to look at him, feeling uncomfortable under his manipulative stare. "I'd think it'd be a lot easier for you, if you were just nice to me. Do you think you were nice to me tonight?"

"No, I'm sorry. I promise to be better." He reaches over and grabs my hand.

I cringe at his touch and want to pull away, but don't.

When we arrive home, he carries me into the apartment, cleans and bandages my foot. I slip into my nightshirt and fall into bed.

"You looked gorgeous tonight, precious," he says as he lies beside me, stroking my hair. "Thank you for buying that dress. I was really worried you'd buy some grandma rag."

I roll over on my side and think_, if only he didn't have to end every compliment with an insult._ He does it every time and it burns me to the core. I close my eyes tight and imagine a life with Mitch, but then remind myself there is no such thing as a knight in shining armor. Damn those fairy tales. I feel doomed to a life immerged in fantasy.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

I rouse to the sound of beeping. Humid air engulfs me, and I know Ben has taken his morning shower. Feeling warm I remove the sheets. My heart flutters like butterfly wings and then begins to pound out of my chest. Springing to my feet I race to the bedroom door, and peek into the other room. Ben stands there, wrapped in a towel from the waist down, his skin glistening in the glow of the morning light that peeps through the window. He watches the answering machine, as a familiar voice resonates through the small living area.

"Hello, Mia, this is Cpt. Woodlow. I just wanted to let you know you forgot your license when you signed-up earlier this week. I've given it to the receptionist to hold. And welcome to the Air Force family."

Ben snickers, then releases a sound like air escaping an over filled tire. As he turns toward the bedroom, I jump back, out of sight. I panic and look for a place to run, to hide, then race toward the bathroom.

A searing pain rips through my scalp as he grabs my hair and yanks me back. My muscles tense and pull. His burly arm wraps around my neck, his solid bicep pressing hard against my windpipe. I cannot breathe. Faintness overcomes me and I desperately pry at his arm, but to no avail. Digging my nails deep into his flesh, I feel blood trickle down my fingers. I grow weak and limp. All goes black.

I open my eyes and shiver. From the light that falls through the cracks of the blind I see the familiar furnishings of my bedroom. My mouth is dry and I try to swallow, but can't. I try to scream, but my voice is gone, my tongue unable to navigate around the gag in my mouth. I reach for my face, but my arm resists. A restraint chafes my wrist. I wiggle my feet and kick, only to realize I have been completely bound to the bed.

I lift my head as far as I can and listen hard. I am alone. For several minutes I sob, wondering if he plans to kill me. I tell myself to relax, and think of a way to escape. Then, I hear footsteps. I can see the shadows of his feet under the crack of the door. The knob rattles and the door swings back, crashing against the wall.

Ben switches on the nightstand lamp, its dim glow casting soft shadows in the room. He then sits on the edge of the bed, my body slides toward him. His dark, burning eyes fall on me, radiating an evil that words cannot describe.

"Please, Ben, don't do this," I say, but my words are mumbled and I know he doesn't understand.

"I don't get it Mia," he whispers as he races his fingers through his hair, brushing it back from his forehead. "I…I gave you everything. I love you. I asked you to marry me and…and you agreed. Was this some kind of sick joke?"

I shift back to the center of the bed as he springs to his feet, and begins to pace.

"You…you were planning all along to make an asshole out of me, weren't you!"- His voice begins to rise – "You're so fucked up. You're such a bitch!"

I pull hard at my restraints, but it's useless. He flies toward me and lands a hand across my face. It burns like a thousand stinging bees. Leaving my head resting to the side, I stare at the window. Warm watery streams pour from my eyes. My sobs grow wild, making it more difficult to breathe. I swallow my terror, creating painful pockets of air that rise in my chest.

A warm hand falls on my breast and moves down my body, gently caressing my goose bumped skin. I shiver under his touch and I begin to tremble like a plucked guitar string. Ben reaches behind my head and unties the gag. I inhale deeply.

"Look at me, Mia" he demands as he sits next to me.

I turn to meet his steady gaze.

"Well, can you tell me what's this all about?" He rests his arms on his thighs and shakes his head.

My mind is a mess as I search for the right words.

He moves in close to my ear and shouts, "Well, can you!"

I close my eyes and exhale. My stomach tightens and I resist the urge to vomit.

"Ben, I don't love you. I haven't for a long time now. Please, are you planning to kill me?"

"Kill you, no. I plan to keep you here until you come to your senses." He claps his hands together with a little clap that makes me jump.

"What does that mean?" I whisper.

"It means you'll see that I'm the best thing in your life, and you'll appreciate me. You've been manipulated by your friends and Mitch." He thrusts his fist into his hand. "Mitch, that son of a bitch!"

"No one has manipulated me," I plead. "Ben you changed after we moved in together, and I was afraid to let you know how I feel. The fact is I haven't loved you for a very long time now."

"You don't mean that."

He walks toward the window and opens the blind, flooding the room with light. Reaching into his jacket he pulls out a pack of cigarettes. He taps it against the back of his hand, tears off the plastic wrap, and pulls one out. Placing it between his lips, he searches the depths of his pocket, retrieving a lighter. Flick! Flick! The sound of the flint striking the wheel sends icy shivers up my spine. The flicker of the flame and the singe of the tobacco roars in the silence. Ben inhales deeply, and then exhales with exaggerated force. Turning to face me, his angry face morphs into a sadistic grin. He approaches my side, sits, and blows smoke in my face. I cough and turn away.

"You need to snap out of it, Mia. You really think there's any man out there that's better than me? Do you really think there's a man that's all flowers and honey?"

"I do Ben, I really do. Not all men beat their girlfriends!" My stomach burns with anxiety and rage.

_If he's going to kill me, I might as well be honest._

He raises his hand and I cringe, but nothing. A demonic laugh escapes him as he flicks his cigarette, casting off a dangling clump of ash. I watch as it disperses into smaller particles, and floats slowly to the ground like powdery snow on a winter's night. The tip glows red and he moves it closer to me. His hand travels back and forth, inches above my body, as if he is sketching invisible lines. I shriek in agony as he buries the tip in the flesh of my thigh.

"I quit smoking for you, Mia!" he yells. "Do you remember that? And look at me now! I'm smoking again, because of you!"

"I'm sorry Ben…I don't want to upset you. You're right, I made a rash decision. I was angry and wasn't thinking straight." My voice begins to falter as my brave front crumbles under the burn of the cigarette.

"You're only saying that because you think that's what I want to hear!" He buries the red glowing tip into my exposed belly.

"Please Ben, you're hurting me. I'm sorry." I close my eyes and float away.

"Did Mitch put you up to this?" He grabs my shoulders and jolts me back to reality.

"No, No." I shake my head as vigorously as possible. "I signed-up before I even met Mitch."

"Then it was Lynette wasn't it?"

"Yes, it was Lynette…she has a cousin in the military and she suggested it to me."

_Lie if you must Mia, he's crazy._

"Aha!" He jumps up from the bed, walks over to the window, and then turns back. A smile of satisfaction spreads across his face. "I knew it! She's a jealous bitch. I told you she was no good."

"You're right," I say. "I don't know what I was thinking…she just made it seem like it was so much fun being in the military."

"Don't give me that shit!" he snarls. "You've been telling her about our problems. Why would you tell a stupid bitch like her our problems?"

"I don't know…I guess I was desperate for someone to talk to…I don't have family or anyone else."

I look at him with pleading eyes, all the while hating myself for not standing up to the bastard.

"God, you are so pathetic." He looks at his watch, slaps his forehead, races over to the window and releases the blind. "I've got to get back to work."

"Please Ben don't leave me here."

I squirm like an ensnared animal.

He returns to my side and reties the gag. Grasping my wrists, he pushes me deep into the mattress. My fingers start to tingle and turn cold. He leans in close, staring at me. There is something in his eyes that chills me to my soul. "Mia," he says, his breath warming my face, "if you ever try to leave me, I'll kill you."

He springs from the bed, flicks off the light, and leaves, closing the door behind him. The room is dark, except for slits of light falling through the blind, and seeping from under the door. After several minutes my eyes adjust. I try to scream, but only a low groan escapes. I writhe in my restraints, chafing the skin from my wrists and ankles. I stop moving. The thump of my heart rises in my ears like an escalating tribal drum.

_What are you going to do Mia? Breathe, just breathe and relax so you can think._

I wonder if the military will come looking for me when I don't show for Officer Training School.

_When they find me, they will excuse my absence and arrest Ben? In that case, I will be free from him forever. But now that he knows they are expecting me what will he do? Will he kill me? I cannot risk it. I must escape._

I lift my head and eye the nightstand. Only a clock and a lamp, nothing that can help me break free. I turn my head toward the other nightstand and there is only a lamp and a few elastic hair bands. I curse myself for being so tidy. If only I were a hoarder, or a slob, there could have been something to help me, but can I even reach? I extend my arm as far as I can; my fingers graze the table's edge. The slip knot tightens, strangling my hand. I relax, but the rope barely gives. Once some of the blood trickles back into my lifeless limb, I stretch my fingers, this time catching the little knob of the drawer. I pull as hard as I can, my index finger slips off and then my ring finger. The middle one hangs on like a desperate soul trying to survive. I try to keep my body still, despite my shivering. The drawer slides open, just a little. I am sure I have a nail file in it, the metal kind with the pointy tip.

I relax again, and wiggle life back into my fingers. Giving myself a moment to rest, I weigh my options. My legs are strong, very strong. I start kicking, but the knots only tighten and the ropes cut into my flesh. Blood seeps down my ankles. If only I could reach the bedpost, I could kick it until it breaks.

I stop, wanting to cry, but berate myself for being so feeble. Maybe Ben is right, I am weak. If I were strong I could find a way out of this mess.

I look at the clock. "It's late, Mia," I mumble. "You're running out of time."

I stretch toward the other nightstand, but my hand is tied too close to the bedpost. I reach back for the one I can touch, catching the knob with my fingers and pulling the drawer a little farther out. I rest and then repeat the cycle until the pain becomes unbearable. A warm stream of blood oozes from my wrist and drips to the floor, sounding like a leaky sink.

The room starts to spin. I squint and focus hard on the drawer. It is only about an inch open. It's useless. I give up, hoping to bleed to death before Ben gets to me. I wonder how he will feel, finding me sprawled out on the bed, cold and rotting.

_How soon after I die will I start to smell? Maybe he will pack-up and leave me here. Someone will find me eventually, maybe when the rent doesn't get paid? Will anyone even miss me? _

I laugh. Death doesn't seem so frightening. The pain is subsiding now and I actually feel quite content. _What do I have to live for anyway? Love, definitely not, family, no longer in the picture. Children, don't have any. A career, I don't even have a job, not a job I want anyway. Maybe I am better off dead._ As I fall in and out of consciousness, I resign myself to my fate.

A tapping brings me back to life. I inhale deeply, as if I have been holding my breath. I look at the crack under the door, but no one is there. The rapping continues, growing louder and then there is a voice.

Shaking my head from side to side, I clear my mind, grow still, and listen hard. Yes, I definitely hear a voice and it is calling my name. Someone does miss me, but whom? A wave a relief washes over me and I feel renewed.

_Don't give up Mia, you are better than this!_

Overcome with rage, I tell myself I cannot let my life end so easy, I am stronger than that. I deserve better. Ben cannot win. I begin to thrash about. The headboard bangs wildly against the wall, and I am more determined than ever to be heard. Finding my voice, I scream, and the low moan becomes an angry howl. I twist, turn and kick until the noise is deafening. Soon, exhaustion takes over and I find it difficult to catch my breath. The gag is soaked in my saliva, allowing more room for my tongue.

"Help me!" I scream over and over until my voice grows hoarse.

My heart is pulsing to the point of explosion. I become still, and as my chest heaves I listen carefully, but hear nothing. My wrists and ankles are on fire, and the blood drip gains momentum.

"Please, don't give up, please help me," I whisper.

A thunderous crack startles me and I strain to sit-up, but the restraints a have cruel, unyielding hold on me. There is another crack, and then splintering wood giving way. Heavy steps charge toward the bedroom. The knob rattles, and the door bursts open. I blink several times, rewetting my eyes, clearing the blurriness.

"Mia, is that you," says the startled voice as his hand slides along the wall and flicks on the light. He races to my side.

"Mitch?" I begin to sob, and then laugh. "It's you! I should've known. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"

"My God, Mia, did he do this to you?" He asks with a quivering voice.

"Yeah, I thought I was going to die here." I sniff hard, sucking back the snot that drips from my nose

He brushes the hair from my face, stares at me with watery eyes, and shakes his head in disbelief. Then, as if realizing time is running short, he removes the ropes that bind me. Sitting-up never felt so good. A tingly feeling finds its way down my back and disappears as blood circulates through my body.

Mitch wraps his arms around me and holds tight. I worry about getting blood on him, but then cast off the ridiculous thought and throw my arms around his neck. Burying my face into his strong shoulder I inhale deeply, the familiar scent of his cologne comforting me.

"We need to go, Mia," he says. "I need to get you to a hospital."

"No, no, I don't have time for that," I say as flashes of Ben's angry face cross my mind.

He grabs me by my shoulders and pushes me back. "Mia, you have lost a lot of blood. You may even need stitches."

"Mitch, I need to pack and go now because I'm not coming back. I also have to be in Alabama next Monday," I plead as I spring from the bed and make a start for the door.

Mitch grabs my arms, pulls me back and asks, "Why?"

"Because I have signed-up for the Air Force."

_Why doesn't he understand? Why is he stalling me?_

"Oh, I see, did he find out?"

I nod my head then break down and cry. He pulls me close and strokes my hair.

"Mia, let's get you to a hospital and contact the police."

I push away from him. My heart fills with terror. "No, I can't do that. He'll kill me!"

"He almost killed you now, Mia. You're not thinking straight. Look what he has done to you!" He lifts my arm. Small pieces of flesh dangle from my wrist. The bloody gash exposes yellow fatty tissue interwoven with small capillaries. I gasp and am overcome with nausea. He helps me to my feet, leads me to the bathroom, and then wraps a towel tightly around my wrist. Guiding to me to the main room, he sits me on the sofa.

"Stay here," he says. "I'm going to pack you a few things."

"My gym bag is on the floor in the closet," I call after him.

His slamming drawers and the chaos in my head leaves me in a state of oblivion. I did not even hear him coming.

"Where the hell is he!" rages Ben as he burst into the apartment.

I look up at him, and remain still, like a frightened animal hoping to be unnoticed by its predator.

"You stupid Bitch!"

He races into the bedroom.

I want to call out and warn Mitch, but I cannot find my voice. There is yelling, scuffling and blowing fists. I spring to my feet, but loose balance and fall back into the sofa.

_Mia, you should be in there helping Mitch! Why are you cowering in here?_

I muster the strength to walk toward the bedroom. As I hang on the door frame I watch the two men battle. Ben lands a punch to Mitch's face, sending him backward onto the bed.

"Ben!" I yell and he turns to look.

Mitch springs to his feet, grabs the lamp on the nightstand and crowns him with it. Ben stumbles forward, Mitch moves out of the way just as he collapses, bounces off the bed, and then slumps to the floor.

"He's out," says Mitch as he grabs the gym bag.

I collect some items from the bathroom and shove them into the bag. We race out the door and hop into Mitch's car.

"Mia, we need to go to the hospital," he says, stripping the gears as he throws the car in reverse.

I inhale the scent of the soft leather seats and will my heart to stop pounding so hard. Dull blue lights glow in the darkness of the car, somehow relaxing me.

"I don't know," I say. "I'll have to tell them what happened."

"Of course, Ben is a madman," he says out of breath.

"I don't want to talk to anyone right now. I'm exhausted, mentally and physically. Can't we just do it in the morning?" I am on the verge of tears.

"Mia, look at how badly you're bleeding." He stops the car and shoots me a thoughtful look.

I peer down at my lap and pangs of nausea rise inside of me as I watch blood spread from the towel onto my clothes.

"I suppose you're right," I say. "Can we stop somewhere so I can clean-up, and then go to the hospital? Can we say it was an accident and talk to the police tomorrow?"

Mitch pushes his fingers through his spiky blond hair. The muscles in his face tighten and his brow furrows. Throwing the car into drive, he takes off, jerking me back into the seat.

"Ok, I understand you have been through a lot," he says as he makes a quick U-turn, "so we'll go to my place first."

My thoughts are jumbled and I am angry at myself for not wanting to run to the police.

"I'm sorry…I'm just so confused," I sob. "He promised he'd be better and was actually beginning to be nicer, and then I went behind his back to try and leave him. Of course he's angry, I betrayed him. I'm sure he loves me and doesn't want to hurt me."

"But Mia, how can you go through life with his ups and downs, never knowing what might set him off? Never knowing when he'll actually go through with killing you?" He tilts his head to the side and releases and exasperated sigh.

"I…I don't know."

He stops the car in the driveway of a stately house and turns to me. "Mia, if you really thought he'd change you'd never signed-up for the military."

"You're right," I say and cast him a weak smile, "but I should have been upfront with him and not done it behind his back. What I did was sneaky and wrong."

"No, Mia, you did it behind his back because you knew, no matter how you presented it, it would end badly." He looks at me as if trying to read my thoughts, trying to understand how I can reason Ben's behavior.

I rub at the snot that drips from my nose and say, "You're right Mitch, you're absolutely right."

"You don't look so good Mia, let's go inside." He releases his seat belt then races to the passenger side door and helps me out of the car. When we enter the house, the smell of new construction plays with my nose. I inhale deeply and try to find comfort in this man's home, and in him, a virtual stranger. He flicks on the lights. There is more house than furniture and the plain walls give it a business office feel.

He walks me to the master bath, throws down my gym bag, and then removes the blood soaked towel. Frantically searching through cabinets and drawers he pulls out cotton balls, bandages and ointment. Sitting on the toilet lid and hanging my arm over the sink, I watch as he gently cleanses and bandages the wound. His brows are knit, and every so often a muscle flexes in the side of his face. It is like a fish lure, beckoning me to reach out and touch it. I imagine how the stubbly hair on his cheek would feel on the tips of my fingers or against my face.

"Mia, go ahead and shower," he says as he hands me a towel. "Keep your hand out of the water."

After I shower and dress, I find Mitch waiting for me outside the bathroom door.

"We need to go to the hospital now," he says as he bounces from foot to foot.

I collapse into his arms. He seats me on a sofa and races to the kitchen, returning with a sandwich and a glass of water. I eat like a starved animal and gulp my water. Instantly I feel stronger.

A light flashes through the window, starling me. I drop my glass to the floor, shattering it, and take cover behind the sofa.

"What is it, Mia!" exclaims Mitch.

"It's him," I quake, "he's here for me."

Mitch peeps through the curtain and assures me it is nothing more than a passing car.

We go to the hospital and the wound is not as severe as I thought. I hide the cigarette burns from the medical staff and Mitch. No one questions me about my injuries and I am able to leave with only six stitches.

That night I lay awake in Mitch's bed, as he sleeps on the sofa. Every now and then I hear his soft footsteps and the sound of the curtain being pulled back. A horrible thought occurs to me, I will be safe, joining the military, but what about Mitch? Surely Ben will be fired and Mitch will be the object of his revenge.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

My nose wakes to the aroma of brewing coffee. I turn in bed, stretch and open my eyes. At first, confusion sets in, and then I remember I am no longer in my apartment. Creeping out of the room I find my way to the kitchen and spy Mitch busily microwaving pancakes.

I watch him, like a sick voyeur. His chest ripples through a just tight enough white t-shirt. His six-pack abs is barely visible, which peaks my curiosity, beckoning me to devour more of this wonder specimen of male. Without shame, my eyes shift down, falling on his snug boxer shorts.

"Hey, I didn't see you there," says Mitch, turning to me with glowing eyes.

I meet his gaze and feel my face flush.

"Good morning," I say and take a seat at the kitchen bar, now too ashamed to make eye contact.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better."

"Sorry, this is all I have," he says as he places a plate of steaming pancakes in front of me. "It's not as good as the real thing, but I'm only used to cooking for myself."

"No, it's fine, really." I clear my throat then ask, "Mitch, how'd you know I was in trouble?"

"I knew something was wrong by Ben's behavior. And in the men's room when he rolled up his sleeves to wash his hands, I saw the scratches."

"Oh how very observant of you." I smile large, almost having forgotten about the little forget-me-not I left on Ben.

He winks and says, "I'm a lawyer. I'm trained to look for detail."

"So what's going to happen now?" I ask, feeling guilty as I look at his swollen and bruised face.

"Well, you have made your commitment to the Air Force, so I can get you to Alabama by next Monday."

"Okay, but what about you?"

"I'll be here, Mia. If you ever need anything you can count on me." His voice is upbeat, but does little to alleviate my worries.

"But what about Ben?" I press on, "Won't you be working in the same office?"

"No, once we go to the police he'll have a record, a criminal record, and will be asked to leave the firm."

My heart begins to race. I cast my eyes to the floor and start to crack my knuckles. Ben may not just lose his job, but also his license to practice law.

"You don't want to go to the police, do you?" says Mitch, unable to hide the disappointment in his voice.

My voice cracks when I speak. "I don't…I know I should, but I can't. Ben's not a bad person. He has his good moments. He just needs help."

"Mia, I'm not going to push you to do anything you're not comfortable with. I must admit I don't understand your reasoning, but I can respect it. My mother was the same…" he cuts short, trailing with a long sigh.

"Thank you for that." I reach across the counter and grab his hands. He flips his over mine and caresses them gently. Small calluses rub against my smooth skin; the sheer masculinity of it sends a tingly sensation throughout my body.

"You've had a rough time, and I know you were with Ben for many years. Eventually you'll realize you'll have to go to the police and you'll do it feeling good. Just…" He pulls his hands away and places them on his hips. His stare lingers on me, a deep pain radiating in his eyes.

"What is it Mitch?" I ask feeling confused.

"Just promise me you won't go back to him."

"Look at me," I say. "I will not go back to him. And once my mind has cleared and I can think straight, I'll report him to the police…if he comes after me. I'm not strong enough to ruin his life right now. I see this as my warning to him, and if he harasses me, I'll report him."

"Okay, you just want to put it behind you. I understand," he says in an unconvinced voice.

"Yes, I'm not looking for revenge. I just want to start my life over again."

His brow furrows and he opens his mouth to speak, but stops.

"He'll come after me, won't he?" I say.

"Most, likely, but you should be safe on base, but if you go off there's always a chance he'll be waiting for you."

"Not where I'm going," I say with confidence.

Confusion spreads across Mitch's face. "Where are you going?"

"Japan, I didn't request it, but it's far away from him." I grin like a schoolgirl who just made varsity.

"Oh, what good luck," he chuckles uncomfortably, "that should be a fun learning experience too." The smile leaves his face and he makes himself busy in the kitchen.

"Mitch, I really do appreciate what you've done for me. I mean…you saved my life. You endangered yourself for me. No one else would've done that," I say with a sniffle.

_Don't cry, Mia! Don't Cry!_

"I care for you Mia," he says as he drops what he is doing and rushes to embrace me. "I want you to be happy, and I hope I can help. You need some time to heal and pick-up your self-esteem. And I'll be here for you, waiting."

The warmth of his body and scent of his skin drive me wild. I want to rip off his clothes and make wild passionate love to him, but I push the thought out of my head. It's too soon; I promised myself that when I left Ben I would not get involved in a new relationship, at least not for a while. And although Mitch seems very sincere, my emotions remain mixed. Sure I am attracted to him and he said he will always be there for me, but what do I really know about him? I have reservations, but my mind is a jumble and I'm not sure why.

Mitch's cell phone rings, startling me from my thoughts. He releases his hold and walks to the other room. I sneak behind and listen.

"Oh, I see," says Mitch. "So he'll probably be out on Monday."

Silence.

"Yeah, if I know him I doubt he'll show either. Okay, well thanks for telling me…Yeah, I'm still working on the McCarthy brief. Something came-up, but I'll try to get it done by Monday."

I race back to the kitchen bar before Mitch returns.

"I have some good news," he chirps. "Ben was arrested for public intoxication and won't make bail until Monday, at the earliest."

"What…that's terrible…won't that go on his record?" I begin to nibble my bottom lip.

"It's a misdemeanor, but he's a good lawyer, I have to give him that, so he'll probably get out of it with no marks on his record."

My stomach churns and I am unable to eat my pancakes.

"Mia, it's his fault that he got drunk, not yours. Now you can go back to your apartment and pack your things. You can relax; you'll be away from him, and safe with me." A smile stretches across his face, not the vicious kind, but one of relief.

"I guess you're right…I just feel so guilty. I upset him so much that he's smoking again…and now drinking." I wring my hands.

"Mia, you can't keep blaming yourself. You deserve to be happy, and if that upsets Ben, then that's too bad."

There is a pitch to his voice, making me realize he is growing impatient with my inability to see Ben for the monster he is.

I inhale deeply and say, "I know…you're right. Okay, let's go pack my stuff."

Just as I hop off the chair, a stab of anxiety shoots through me and I lose balance, releasing a gasp as I stumble.

"You need to relax," says Mitch as he grabs my trembling hands.

"What about my car? He has my car." I swallow hard, trying to dissolve the lump that constricts my throat.

"Mia," he says in his gentlest tone, "It's probably still at the bar he visited. I'll find out where he was arrested and will get it for you."

We ride in silence for several minutes. I do not want to ask, but it comes out, "Mitch, why are you being so good to me?"

An easy grin spreads over his face, and his eyes begin to sparkle. "Mia," he says, "You remind me of my mother. She kept hanging on to hope that my father would treat her better, but it never happened. Once he died, though, well, she didn't miss him."

"Not at all?" I ask incredulously.

"Well, maybe at first, but after a few months she realized she was free, and she enjoyed that…even regretted not having left him years earlier."

"Mitch…umm…is your mother…ya know-"

"Still alive? Yes," he says turning to face me. "You don't have to be nervous; you can ask me anything you want."

The warmth of his voice fills me with life and hope. Without thinking I reach over and grab his hand. "So did your mom move on?"

"Move on with her life? Yes."

"But did she fall in love again?"

"Sadly, no."

I sigh and my heart flutters.

Mitch's eyebrows plunge to the bridge of his nose. "What's up?"

A lump rises in my throat and I begin to stammer, "Uh…I don't know…I mean I was only thinking…that I want to love again."

"Of course you do Mia. You haven't gotten in too deep with Ben."

"No marriage, no kids, I know. Thank God," I chuckle.

Mitch stares forward, not a trace of laugher or a twitch of the face.

"Everything okay?" I ask.

"Sure, let's pack your things then hit the grocery store. I want to make you dinner," he says in a humorless voice, leaving me to wonder if I said something wrong.

We park the car and I trail behind Mitch to the apartment, afraid Ben may be lurking in the bushes that hug the walkway. The sound of rustling leaves startles me and I release a tiny scream. Mitch turns back, wraps a comforting arm around me, and gives me a 'don't be so silly' smile.

"Relax Mia, he's in jail." He rubs my shoulder as if trying to reassure me.

I inhale deeply, continue to force myself to take full breaths, and trudge forward.

My heart pounds in my throat as we approach. The splintered door fills its frame like a sad reminder of my recent past, cracked, broken and barely hanging on. Mitch pushes it back and we enter. The apartment floor is littered with beer bottles, and I immediately start collecting them.

_What are you doing? You don't have to do this anymore!_

I drop the bottles to the floor and they rattle as they collide together, like a loud reminder of my tumultuous relationship with Ben. Falling to my knees I begin to sob. Mitch kneels down beside me and strokes my hair.

"Mia, if this is too hard for you go wait in the car. I'll get your things."

"No, its better I deal with this now," I say. "Being here just really drives it home…ya know…it's over. I can't believe it's over." I push my palms into my eyes and wipe out the tears.

Mitch sighs heavily, like he does so often with me, and then sits on the carpet. I stare at my engagement ring as he speaks. "Mia, I don't think it's over."

"I don't deny I still have feelings for him," I counter, "but the fact remains that I don't love him. That I'm sure of."

"No…no…he's not going to just disappear. I'm certain he will be back for you…are you ready for that?"

"I…I don't know." I turn away from Mitch and twist the diamond ring on my finger with my thumb, watching it sparkle like a night star. "I think I just need some time to absorb all of this, and then I'll be prepared."

I rub at the cigarette burn on my stomach, reminding myself of what he is capable. With new resolve, I spring to my feet, charge to the bedroom closet and pull out my clothes.

"Can you put these in your car?" I ask Mitch as he creeps up by my side.

"Anything," he says.

After collecting all my clothes I head for the nightstand and stop as a splinter of guilt stabs at my heart. Lifting a silver picture frame, engraved with roses, I stare at a happier me with Ben. We are holding plastic cups filled with beer and are embracing one another. _He must have put this out; he must have been looking at it all night. _My eyes start to bulge with tears and I resist blinking, hoping they will dry before Mitch returns. A warm hand rubs my shoulder and I blink, sending warm salty streams down my cheeks.

"What's this?" asks Mitch as his hand meets mine on the picture frame.

"The first party we went to as a couple," I say.

"You look happy." He slips his hand around my waist, much like Ben in the photo.

"Yeah, huh, I sure was…happily blind." A little laugh escapes me. I flip the picture over on the table then tug at the ring on my finger. I hold the rock to the light and admire its shine. Placing it on top the picture I turn to Mitch and tell him it's time to leave.

I stare out the window as we drive to the grocery store, and convince myself that I did the right thing.

"You okay?" asks Mitch as he parks the car.

"Yeah," I say and turn to face him. "I keep trying to tell myself that joining the military was too drastic a measure to escape Ben. But, even if I had just left, where would I've gone? I do need a job, and well, I've done the right thing."

"I think so too," says Mitch.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

I sit on the sofa, nervously eyeing the window as I try to watch TV. Heavy drapes block the outside, not even a crack of light getting through. But I imagine Ben is there, watching, and exacting his revenge. It's absurd; he's in jail, but only until tomorrow. I nibble my nails to the quick and then begin to pull at my cuticles.

"Dinners ready, I hope you like it," calls Mitch from the other room.

Sucking at a torn cuticle, hoping it will stop bleeding, I stroll into the dining room. The smell of steak and garlic potatoes sends pangs of hunger through me, but my appetite is distracted by the bright light of the chandelier falling on me, like a spotlight. I insist on a candle lit dinner. Mitch happily obliges, but as I watch the soft flames cast shadows across his face, I am reminded of my last dinner with Ben.

_Mia how can you do this? How can you enjoy this, knowing Ben is suffering?_

"Have any wine?" I ask.

"Uh…sure," says Mitch.

As he leaves I take a few bites of steak. My jaw muscles are tense, making it difficult to chew and swallow.

Mitch returns with two glasses of wine and I gulp mine down like a shameless drunk.

"Take is easy," says Mitch with a twisted smile, as if trying to make light of something he finds serious.

"Sorry, I'm just a little edgy." My voice is low and trembling.

Mitch takes small sips from his glass and we eat in silence for several uncomfortable minutes.

"Mitch, I just want you to know that I'm not a drunk. I've been under a lot of stress," I blurt.

"I understand," he says, "but you're safe here with me, so you don't have to drink to calm your nerves."

I eye my near empty wine glass and grip my fork until my fingers turn white. With a trembling hand, I spear a piece of meat and carefully guide it toward my mouth. I chew slowly as I watch Mitch with wide eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

I cast my fork to the side, tipping over my wine glass. My heart falls as I watch the red, sweet numbing potion spread across the table. Slamming my elbows into the table, I release a low moan. Mitch starts to his feet, but I motion him to sit, and throw my napkin on the spill.

"I'm sorry; I'm just having a hard time dealing with the stress."

Mitch's eyes glow with sympathy and he slouches back in his seat, giving me his full attention.

"I know a time will come when I'll feel exhilarated having my freedom."

"Mia," says Mitch as he leans forward, placing his elbows on the table, "I'm not judging you."

"It's just too soon for me to face so much reality at once." I sigh heavily, and then take a few deep breaths.

"What can I do to speed things along?" he asks as he races to my side and grabs my trembling hands.

I stare into his ocean blue eyes and say, "Just be here to support me."

He begins to stroke my hair and I reach up, wrapping my arms around his neck. His lips meet mine and we share a long passionate kiss. His hands move up my back in a warm circular motion.

He pulls back and says, "Mia, I just don't want to do this until you're ready."

"I'm ready Mitch," I say as I push images of Ben out of my head.

Sweeping me off my feet, he carries me to the bedroom. He lays me gently on the bed, and begins to undress. My heart pounds out of control as I soak in his rock hard body. The rays of moonlight pressing through the cracked blinds reveal his musculature, making me bite my bottom lip in anticipation. He lies beside me and finds my lips with his and his hand slides down to my breasts.

His warm breath tickles my neck as he removes my clothes in a delicate manner, as if any roughness would cause me harm. His touch continues to my clitoris and he massages it with a tenderness that teases me and excites me at the same time. I yearn for him to slide his fingers into my vagina, but he hesitates until I begin to writhe. Then he gently inserts two fingers and moves them in a circular motion. His erection throbs against my thigh and I want to beg him to fuck me, but don't. The pleasure I am feeling is unlike anything else I have ever experienced. It's sweet, passionate, and feels like love, not the animalistic sex I had become accustomed to with Ben. Finally he penetrates me and I shudder with delight as I orgasm.

I wake to a chill and pull the covers just under my neck. Sliding my hand to the opposite side of the bed, I am met with soft coldness. Shooting upright I stretch toward the nightstand and flick on the light.

"Mitch," I call out, but there is no answer.

I jump out of bed, wrap the sheet around my bare body and feel my way through the dark, the only light coming from the moon through the cracks of the blinds. Taking slow, quiet steps my ears perk and a low buzz, like a small engine, comes from deeper within the house. With trepidation, I walk toward the sound. A light glows from the half bath. I catch my breath and remain still. Wanting to call out for Mitch, I open my mouth, but stop.

_What if Ben is in there, waiting for me?_

Pulling the sheet up, I creep toward the bathroom. I stop at the door's edge and listen carefully, but only hear the droning fan. Peeking around the corner, I am greeted with emptiness. I sigh in relief only to grasp my chest when a jangling rattles my nerves. The horrible clanging of keys sends a wave of anxiety crashing over me like an angry wave. _Ben is not here, Mia! _I make my way to the other room, pick up a lamp and stand behind the door. There is talking, and I can just make out Mitch's voice.

'Thanks again,' I hear him say as the door opens.

He closes the door and flicks on the light. Jumping back he releases an obscenity and raises his hands, curling them into white knuckled fists. "Jesus Mia, are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

"I'm sorry," I stammer as I drop the lamp, breaking it.

Mitch races over, embraces me and begins kissing the top of my head. "It's okay, I hated that lamp anyway."

A laugh escapes me, but the feeling of panic remains. "Where were you?"

"I met with a friend to get your car."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I ask, realizing I must sound like a nagging wife.

"You were sleeping so peacefully, I didn't want to wake you. Then it suddenly occurred to me that I better get your car before Ben makes bail."

He walks over to the half bath and shuts the light. "Damn, must've left that on," he says.

I giggle inside over my own jumpiness.

_No need to worry, at least not until tomorrow._

"Come here," I say as I grab his hand and lead him gently into the bedroom.

"Mia, Mia," I hear a distant voice.

Waking to blurry vision, I rub my eyes until Mitch's face comes into focus. "What is it," I blubber as I make a start out of bed.

"Calm down," he says. "I'm heading to work and just wanted to let you know."

"Oh, thanks," I say.

"There's coffee it the kitchen. Sorry I couldn't make you breakfast, but I'm behind with the McCarthy brief and must get going."

"No problem," I say as I stretch out, grab his bulging bicep and pull him closer.

We kiss for several seconds before he pulls away, lifts my face in his hands and says, "Mia, don't leave the house, okay?"

"I won't," I say.

"Call me if you see him, but most important call the police if he steps on the property."

"I will." I'm impatient with his uneasiness.

Mitch leaves, and after preparing and devouring breakfast, I decide to explore. I start with his closet, turning every suitcase, shoe, and box, looking for something that will tell me more about him. But there is nothing. I go into a bedroom and again, nothing, and then another. This one peaks my curiosity. It is not furnished with a bed, nightstand and dresser. It's been transformed into an office.

I approach the mahogany desk that fills the room, running my fingertips along its smooth, shiny surface. My oily fingers leave smudges, which I hastily rub away with my shirt sleeve. One file holder sits on top, its shelves filled with papers, perfectly stacked one atop another. I pull out the plump leather chair and fall into its comforting embrace. My eyes shift about the room and then land on the drawers. Grabbing a brass handle, I pull, but it's locked. They are all locked.

I spring to my feet and search the various ceramic containers within the bookshelves that line the walls, but there is no key. Crawling under the desk, looking for an easy way to spring the lock, I bang my head when I hear a rapping at the door.

I remain still for several seconds, like a frightened animal trying to carefully plan its escape. But the rapping gets louder, and then I hear a voice.

"Mia, I know you're in there!"

My heart flutters and I begin to shake.

"Mia, please, I only want to talk to you. Mia, I love you."

I gather the courage to race to the door. Standing on the tips of my toes I spy Ben through the peephole. His face is overgrown with stubble and his eyes burn with a sadness I have never seen before. My heart grows sore as it pounds out of control. Reaching for the handle, I grab and turn, but stop short of releasing the lock.

"Mia, baby, I love you, please. I just want to talk." Sadness resonates in his voice.

I let the handle slip from my hand as I slump to the floor. Crossing my arms and grasping my shoulders, I bow my head and gently sob.

"Mia, I'm sorry, please. I…I was so upset. I know what I did was wrong. I'll be better. I'll make it up to you. We can forget this ever happened." He pleads like a desperate man, willing to do anything to release the pain that fills him.

I reach up under my shirt and rub at the burn on my belly. 'This is unforgivable,' I tell myself as I spring to my feet. "Go away Ben or I'll call the police!"

"Mia, c'mon, at least take the ring back. Just reconsider, for me, for us."

"I'm sorry, I can't!" I muffle my voice with my hand, determined not to reveal the tremor in my voice.

I jump as his fist falls on the door, and then slides down like a wounded soul. Squeezing my eyes tight and pressing my ears, I sway for several minutes before a ringing phone snaps me back to reality.

"Hello?" I ask.

"Everything ok?" returns Mitch.

"Oh, yeah, I'm doing good." I take half steps toward the window, and then pull back the curtain, just enough to peek outside. I sigh in relief.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"Yes, I'm fine, really. Just a little bored, that's all."

"I'm sorry about that," he says, "It's not safe for you to leave the house, and being so busy with work, I don't have any entertainment. Maybe we can watch a movie tonight?"

"Yea, that'd be great," I say with feigned interest.

After hanging up the phone, I rush to the door and open it. My heart jumps with excitement when I see my cell phone, a note, my engagement ring and a rose. Grabbing it all up and returning behind the locked door, I tear open the note.

'Mia, I was in love the moment I set eyes on you. You're beautiful, smart and innocent. Your innocence is the one thing I've tried to protect and I worry what'll happen to you. I care for you deeply and am dreadfully sorry for how I've treated you. Deep down inside I know you're too good for me, but we've been together for such a long time. Please give me another chance. If you don't want to stay with me then you can walk away, no questions asked.

Love Ben.'

I relax on the sofa, twirl the long stem rose between my fingers and inhale its sweet scent. Ben is right; we have been together for a long time. He knows me well; he knows that roses are my favorite flower. A smile creeps across my face as I relive our first days together. My phone bleeps and an envelope pops-up on the screen. I open the text.

'Love you – Ben.'

My mind begins to whirl with conflicting doubts and emotions. Then I remind myself of what a monster Ben truly is. If he burned me because he knew I wanted to leave, what would he do to punish me if I returned? Surely he feels humiliated by pleading for my forgiveness. A wave of anger rushes over me. I crumble the note and toss it aside.

"Ugh, Mia, what's the matter with you?" I yell as I storm into the bedroom, turn off the phone and shove it under the mattress. I sit for several minutes, calming the storm brewing in my head.

_The ring, where is the ring?_

I fall to my knees and lift the mattress. It's not there. My heart races as I retrace my steps back to the door. The ring has vanished. It occurs to me that I may have dropped it outside, but as I search the concrete pathway and the surrounding grass, I find nothing.

Enclosing myself in the safety of the house I wonder if I imagined the ring. _Should I text Ben back, asking him where it is?_ _No, that'd be stupid. Why did I even open the door? And what will Mitch say if he finds the ring, after I told him that Ben is out of my life? After telling him I'd call the police if he showed?_

Racing back to the bedroom, I pull out the phone, clear the text message and place it, along with the rose on the front door step.

The afternoon seems to wear on forever as I scold myself for basing a relationship, yet again, on a foundation of deceit. Why can't I just tell Mitch that I still have feelings for Ben, feelings I cannot explain, which led me to a moment of weakness?

'Mitch is not Ben,' I tell myself, 'He'll understand, and if he doesn't then fuck 'em, he's not the man for me.'

I open the door and bend over to retrieve the items when someone grabs my arm. Springing to my feet, I gasp and nearly topple over, but the strong man pulls me forward, squashing me into his muscular chest. He strokes the back of my hair as he rubs his nose into the crown of my head.

"Oh, Mia, I miss you so much," says Ben as I cringe under his touch.

Once he loosens his grip I push him away and lift my shirt, just enough to expose the burn.

"Look what you did to me!" I yell. "This is unforgivable!"

"I'm sorry Mia. C'mon let's go home and talk about this. I even cleaned-up the apartment for you."

He grabs my hands and squeezes as he flashes his most charming smile.

"No, I'm sorry Ben, but it's over," I say with conviction. "Your kindness only lasts so long before you're back to being the monster you are."

"God damn it, Mia, you want me to beg! After all I've done for you!"

The smile leaves his face, replaced by a scowl of barely contained fury. "You've been fucking this guy and think you're in love, right? How stupid can you be?"

The cartilage in my hands grind as he tightens his grip, sending shooting pains up my arms.

"Like I said," I snarl, "Your kindness only lasts for so long."

I wrestle free from his hold, stare him in the eye and say, "Now leave before I call the police, and take your shit too."

Sliding quickly behind the door, I slam it shut and turn the lock. I press my ear against the door and hear nothing. After several minutes, I find my way to the kitchen and look for the red wine.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"What's this?" inquires Mitch as he enters the house.

"What?" I say sleepily as I twist in the couch and pull myself upright.

"This phone, and rose…need I continue?" He looms over me like a disappointed parent.

The ire in his voice raises my defenses, and I ask incredulously, "Are you upset with me?"

He crosses his arms and says, "Well, yeah, I'm upset. He's been here and you didn't even tell me."

"Well, if he was here, I didn't know," I retort sourly.

He sits next to me and begins waving a badly wrinkled piece of paper, like a victory flag. A sarcastic smile lurks in every corner of his face. "And I suppose you didn't read this note either?"

"Did you read that?" I grab the paper from his hand, crumble it and toss it to the floor. "That's an invasion of my privacy."

"Look, Mia, I'm sorry I'm angry. I just don't think you realize the gravity of the situation." He looks steadily into my eyes.

"Maybe not," I agree, crossed between feelings of dread over my actions and anger by his condescending tone. "Look, I'm sorry I lied, I don't want to lie to you. The fact is I still have feelings for Ben. I know it doesn't make sense, but, well, it breaks my heart to see him suffer."

"What about you, Mia?" he says snidely, "Does it break your heart to watch yourself suffer? Or don't you think you deserve better?"

"I do deserve better, but Ben and I had years together, and we had some very special moments."

I hate that my voice is more pleading than confident.

"Special, you mean like when he burnt you?" he asks as he lifts my shirt.

I spring from the sofa and begin to pace. "Look, I had a moment of weakness, okay. I…I ultimately sent him away and warned him not to come back."

"Did you Mia?" he asks. A distrustful smile spreads across his face.

"Mitch, are you listening to yourself? You're sounding a lot like Ben. Are you trying to control me too?"

His severe expression relaxes as he learns forward, rests his elbows on his knees, and stares at the floor. Pushing his fingers through his dirty blond hair, he releases a heavy sigh.

"You're right," he finally says, "I shouldn't dictate to you how you should feel or behave. I'm only here to support you. I…I just want you to forget Ben and look forward to a relationship with me."

"I'm flattered you want a relationship with me, but it's-"

"-too soon?" he splutters as he rises from the sofa, only inches away from me, and places his hands on his hips. "I got it. I guess I was just thinking selfishly."

"I have a lot of healing to do and I was hasty in making love to you," I say as my heart struggles with the mixed emotions that flood me.

"So you weren't ready…I shouldn't have made love to you," he concludes with a whisper, as if making a revelation.

"Maybe not," I say, "but it felt right at the moment, and I do like you Mitch. I like you a lot, but I just can't jump into a relationship now…not until I recover."

"Of course, I felt that all along, but I wanted to believe you when you said you were ready. Do you think we have a chance at a long term relationship Mia?" His eyes stare deep into mine, reaching the depths of my soul.

"Of course," I say as I divert my eyes from his. "I think my time in Japan will give me just the break I need to heal and make decisions."

"Of course," he says as his face tightens and his brow furrows.

"Look, my encounter with Ben today only reinforced my need to make right choices. I mean maybe he's been right about something all along," I say as my voice begins to quiver. "I'm weak."

"You're not weak, you're beaten," he says with conviction.

Maybe he is right, but the pain that has burned me from the inside out for so long has made me suspicious. What could a seemingly perfect man like Mitch see in me? I'm shy, awkward and can only offer trouble with a personality like Ben following me around.

"Mitch, you're young, handsome, have an awesome career. You can have any woman you want." I stop myself from continuing, knowing I must sound dreadfully pathetic, not the new Mia I long to be.

"Maybe, but do they really want me?" he asks, placing emphasis on the 'really'. "And what about you, you seem to have trouble imagining a life with me."

"I can imagine a life with you, but I'm broken, don't you want someone with less…baggage?"

_There I go again._

"Come here, Mia," he says as he extends his hands to me. I grab hold and my heart skips a beat as he gently guides me to the sofa. "I've dated plenty of women, but it never works out for one of two reasons. One, I'm nice and well…I don't think most girls like nice guys. Two, the ones that seem to want a relationship want it for the wrong reasons."

"How so?"

"Money…like you said, I'm young and have a promising career. I've had my heart broken by more than one gold digger."

"So how am I different?"

"You're genuine, Mia, you're modest and too down to earth to think like a gold digger. I can see in your eyes that you want to love. And when we made love it felt-"

"It felt real and you're right," I say, resisting the urge to tell him that his presence makes my heart ache with desire. "But I'm on the rebound and well, you've only known me for a few days."

"You worry that I'm rash," he says with a smile. "Maybe so, maybe I'm too desperate for love, but I have a good feeling about you…us. You go to Japan, and if you still want me when you return, I'll be here. That's all I can ask."

"Fair enough," I say, secretly cursing that pesky voice of reason that once again reins victorious over my emotions.

He gathers me into his arms, but pulls away before our lips meet.

Mitch rises and asks, "What do you want to do with this phone?"

"I don't want it. Ben gave it to me and he pays the bill."

Mitch places it on the coffee table and excuses himself to prepare our meal. We eat dinner and talk like good friends, never once mentioning Ben. As the evening rolls on like a pleasant dream, I find myself wanting to make love to him again. But after our earlier exchange I know it's best to wait. It wouldn't be fair for me to continue giving him mixed signals as I deal with my emotional ups and downs.

"Well, I need to get an early start tomorrow, so I'm going to head to bed. I'll sleep on the sofa." He rises from the table, and makes a start for the kitchen.

"I need to go out tomorrow," I tell him, "and get my driver's license."

"You left it at the apartment?" he asks surprised.

"No, at the recruitment center, that's what spawned the call that set Ben off."

"Oh, boy, yeah I can't get that for you. I'd prefer if you waited for me to go with you though." He rests a hand on his hip and tilts his head in thought.

"Look, Mitch, I've inconvenienced you enough, I'll be careful." My expression is somber and I mean what I say.

"Absolutely not, I'll come home for lunch and we'll go together."

"But you're already behind in your work," I plead.

"It's okay, you'll be gone soon, and I'll catch-up." He nods his head, sure of himself.

"Mitch…won't you sleep in the bed with me?" I ask. "I feel safer with you there."

"I can't Mia, I can't," he says as he bows his head and walks away.

I sit alone, hearing only a buzzing fan and running water. I sneak to the bathroom and peek in, watching the muscles in Mitch's back flex as he brushes his teeth. Creeping behind him, I wrap my arms around his middle and slowly move my hands up his chest. His smooth skin sets a tingly feeling in motion through my body. I ache for him, and my desire only heightens when he returns the affection. We kiss passionately, toothpaste meeting my taste buds, like the most wonderful minty treat.

"Mia, I can't," he says dejectedly as he pushes me away.

"Why?" I implore, thinking he's a man and I'm ready and willing. What does it matter if we fall in love or not?

"Not while you're still hung-up on him." He reaches past me, grabs a shirt and pulls it on.

I cross my arms and can feel my face twist into a scowl. "I'll eventually get over him. The fact is, I'm wildly attracted to you and I want to make love to you. Don't you feel the same?

"Of course I do, but I need more than that! I need to know you're with me. I don't want Ben in our bed!" He brushes past me, grabs a pillow from the bed and heads for the family room.

The next morning I wake to an empty house. I look around for a note and there is nothing. Pacing about aimlessly, I eye the phone on the coffee table. I rush over and turn it on. There are several missed calls and an envelope. I move my finger to swipe, but stop. Setting the phone aside, I am determined to resist the urge to continue playing Ben's games. Detaching myself from feelings of guilt is priority one.

To pass time, I snoop, finding scatterings of family photos and letters, but nothing overwhelmingly interesting or tale-telling. Determined to move forward with my life, either with or without Mitch, I scatter my clothes on the bed and begin to pull out what I plan to pack. As I fold the clothes and place them in my suitcase, I imagine what it will be like in Japan. I picture Buddhist temples with tiled roofs, surrounded by cherry trees with pink cotton-candy blossoms. My heart skips with excitement as I think about long walks in forests filled with vibrant green bamboo, reaching as high as the sky will allow.

My imaginings are broken when I hear the jingle of keys. Unwillingly to let my unbridled desire for Mitch show, I continue packing. He comes behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. The sweet smell of his skin and the warmth of his breath down my neck make me shiver.

"So how's work?" I ask as I reach for a shirt, loosening his hold on me.

"It's good. In fact, I'm just about done with my brief, and so far Kevin has been quite impressed." He beams like a child who just won a trophy.

I want to ask if Ben ever showed-up, but I know he probably hadn't. Thinking about the burn on my thigh and belly, I tell myself the less I think about him, the sooner he'll disappear from all my thoughts.

"So you're packing already?" he asks as he takes a seat at the edge of the bed.

"Yes, I figure we've got to head out over the weekend to make it by Monday," I say, not once looking at him.

"Okay, well let me know if you need more boxes."

The air turns uncomfortably silent.

"So, I guess we need to get your license, are you ready?"

"Yes, of course," I say as I throw some underwear into the suitcase.

An uneasy feeling creeps over me as we exit the house. I imagine Ben is hiding somewhere, watching. We drive to the recruitment center and retrieve my license without incident.

Mitch insists we eat lunch at a small deli. As I sit quietly, enjoying my corned beef sandwich, I notice that all the woman stare at him, the smiles leaving their faces when their sights drift to me. It's not an unfamiliar feeling, Ben being a handsome man, but it's more intense with Mitch.

"Do you come here often?" I ask, trying to make light conversation.

"Not really, but it's a great place." He eats his sandwich with care as if he's afraid it will crumble in his hands.

As we drive home, feelings of desperation overcome me and I blurt, "Mitch, please stop being so cold to me."

"Cold?" he says incredulously, "Like when you pushed me away from you earlier?"

"Well, that's only because when I show you affection you push me away."

"Mia, I have to because I want you to be focused on us…not Ben."

"I understand," I say as I resign myself to the fact that Mitch and I will be able to touch and play, but not be romantic. Maybe he is doing the right thing for me, forcing me to deal with my raw emotions before moving forward.

His expression relaxes and he says, "I got something for you…for us."

My heart pounds with anticipation. "What?" I ask as I grab his hand and squeeze.

"A laptop, so we can stay in touch. I put Skype on it. We can get to know each other while you're in Japan."

"A laptop!" I burst. "That's expensive, I can't let you-"

"It's done," he interrupts, "It's a string free gift from me to you."

"Thanks," I say breathlessly as I lean over and place a kiss on his cheek.

Mitch drops me off at the house, and like a child with a new toy, I set-up my laptop and begin to surf the internet. I hear a tapping at the door. Pausing, I hold my breath and listen harder. There is a knock and then another, and then a voice.

"Mia, c'mon open the door." The voice is calm and pleading.

My stomach twists into a knot and every muscle in my body grows tense. Rubbing at the burn on my belly, I remain seated and do a Google search for Japan.

"God damn it, Mia!" he yells. "I won't stop shouting until you come out here. I have something important to tell you about your boyfriend."

I slam my fists into the desk and spring to my feet. A wave of heat passes through me as I charge toward the front door. "What the hell do you want?" I demand. "Go away, we're over!"

"Mia, just open the door, I want to talk. Don't do this to me. We had four years together. I told my parents we're getting married. They're visiting me soon. What am I going to tell them?" His voice is weak, like a child pleading helplessly to its mother.

"That you abused me and I left!" I yell.

His body falls against the door and slides down. He begins to sob wildly. I have never heard Ben cry before, not even when tragedy struck. It's the most unnerving thing and it's all I can do not to fling open the door and hug him. My heart sinks to my feet and my eyes bulge with tears, but I rub at the burn, the constant reminder of what he has done to me.

I take a deep breath, and in a controlled voice say, "I'm sorry Ben, if you don't leave I'll have to call the police."

I jump back as his fists land on the door. The sound of cracking wood sends tremors of fear through my body.

"Stop it Ben!" I run to the phone, and stop short of dialing 9-1-1.

"Mia, this has gone on far too long!" The rage in his voice takes me back to the old Ben, the familiar Ben.

"I've called the police Ben, you better go!" My finger refuses to push the buttons.

"Just listen to me Mia," he says. "Ask your boyfriend about his arrest. Ask him about it and see what he has to say."

"Arrest?" I say.

Ben chortles, "Oh, you mean lover boy didn't tell you about it?"

"You're lying."

"Just ask him. Ah! What's the point you're so stupid, you'll believe whatever bullshit he feeds you. Just continue thinking there's someone out there better than me, Mia."

I peek out the window and watch Ben storm away. Racing back to my laptop, I Google 'Mitch Maynard arrest', and the first hit I get is his LinkedIn profile. Everything reads true, partner at Pitkin & Catelli, graduated summa cum laude from the University of California Berkley law school. I search for the county, Alameda and then look for court records. Only general records are available for viewing online. Perhaps he was a juvenile offender, but I do not even know where he is from.

As the day wears on, I shift between searching for information about Mitch and Japan. I did not even notice Mitch's arrival.

"How you like that laptop," says Mitch, startling me.

"Oh, a lot," I say as I close out the browser.

"So, was he here today?" He knits his brows and looks at me as if he expects me to lie.

"Yeah, but he went away when I threatened to call the police."

"He left a nice crack on my door, Mia." He walks over to me, grabs my hands and pulls me to my feet, his rough masculinity exciting me. "You seem to be taking this well. He could've killed you."

"He just wanted to scare me, that's all. He could've easily busted the door down."

"Maybe he will…next time." He stares at me with suspicious eyes.

I touch the side of his face, his sand paper stubble making my skin prick. I rub at the yellow-blue bruise that still shadows his eye. "I'll be leaving in a few days, so I'm really not worried. Actually, I'm kinda excited."

He shows no emotion from my touch. "Mia, I'm calling the police to report this and I'd like for you to tell them what's been happening."

I return to my seat and sit in silence for several minutes as Mitch stands over me, as serious as ever. Realizing he will still be in danger after I leave, I feel I have no choice but to do as he says. After all he has done for me; the least I can do is report the situation to the police.

"Okay," I say as I walk over to the main room, Mitch following. "Go ahead and call, I'll tell them everything."

A smile bursts across his face. Stretching out his arms, I walk into his embrace. "Thank you, Mia. I know how difficult this is for you to do."

"It is, but I want you to know I'm working on us."

He calls the police and when they arrive I recount everything, even the burns, and I show them the cuts on my wrists. They give me a battered women contact, which sends feelings of shame through me. Other women are battered, not me. I cast the card aside after they leave. I sit on the sofa, fidgeting, too tense to rest back. Mitch moves next to me, wrapping a comforting arm around my shoulder.

"Mia, I'm grateful you did this for me." He runs an index finger down the side of my face.

"You know, I feel relieved I've done this," I say. "It confirms to me that Ben and I are over. There's no turning back from this, but I'd be lying if I didn't admit to feeling a little guilty."

"That's normal, Mia, just give it time, you'll feel better." He gives me a little squeeze.

"Yeah, but...they're going to talk to him now. He's going to furious and he'll be back...I just know it."

"I'm sorry, Mia, I hate to see you like this."

We sit quietly, my mind a frantic mess as I watch Mitch drift away, deep in thought.

"I'm going to work from home these next few days, and I'm having an alarm installed."

"That's a good idea," I say. "I'm certain he'll come back for you."

Mitch stands, presses a forefinger against his lip and smirks.

"What?" I ask.

"I can take care of myself," he says. "I just don't want him breaking in while I'm out."

"Of course," I return with a giggle.

"Come here," he says as he grabs my arm and pulls me close. "You're just too much."

I beam with delight as he folds me in his arms.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Waking before Mitch, I race to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. I clumsily pull out drawers and open cabinets, looking for the cooking utensils I need. And then it dawns on me, Mitch has been taking such good care of me, that I cannot find my way around. Pushing my fingers through my hair, I stare blankly at the wall, and feel a smile creep across my face. 'I could get used to this,' I think.

"You're up early," says Mitch.

I clasp my chest and release a little gasp. "You scared me!"

He apologizes as he walks past me and pulls out a frying pan. "Here, why don't you let me take over," he says with a trace of smugness.

I sit at the breakfast bar and watch him with pleasure. "So what's the plan today?"

"The alarm people are coming to make an assessment, and I'll be working from home."

"Oh, so I guess I shouldn't disturb you," I say playfully.

The corners of his mouth begin to turn up, but he resists the emotion.

Time passes slowly as I shift between surfing the internet and watching TV. Staying out of Mitch's way proves difficult, and as the morning melts into afternoon, I find myself terribly bored. I decide to prepare his lunch, and just as I walk into the kitchen the doorbell rings. A flash of fear shoots through me, and my heart begins to pulse out of control.

"The alarm people," calls out Mitch and he answers the door.

I sigh in relief, but then notice the front door remains unlocked as the men walk deeper into the house. I look about frantically, figuring an escape route should Ben come busting in. Determined to face my fear, I take a deep breath, walk to the other room, lock the door, and then pull back the curtain to peek out the window.

"Yeah, if you can confirm that quote this afternoon, that'd be great," says Mitch, and as he shows the men to the front door his cell phone goes off.

"Hello?" he says as he locks the door, and turns to me with a reassuring smile. "Damn, okay..."

My heart quickens as his expression sours. "What is it?" I ask.

"I need to run to the court house," he sighs. "And I've got to go now. No time to explain. Damn! Damn!" He reaches up and presses his temples.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, just they need me there. I'd completely forgotten. I'll be gone for a few hours." He grabs my arms and gives me a stern yank. "Mia, will you be all right?"

"Sure…I'll keep the door locked and keep the phone with me." I hide my uncertainly behind a smile.

"Mia, the police have probably spoken to him by now. He's angry and there's no telling what he may do next." His eyes search mine.

"I understand," I say, knowing the quiver in my voice does little to mask my fear.

He cups my face in his hands and stares deep into my eyes. I want to kiss him, but don't. Instead, he kisses me. I break away, fearful I may cry.

"I'll be okay…really" I race over to the cordless phone and pull it off its base.

"Call me if you see him…no…call the police first."

"Okay, go now." I wave him out the door.

I lock the door behind him and he gives the handle a turn and a shake. Racing over to the window, I pull back the curtain and watch him get into his car. He waves before he drives off in a hurry. My eyes dart about, looking for Ben, but he is nowhere to be seen.

Returning to the kitchen, I eat the lunch I had prepared for Mitch. I sit at the breakfast bar and play with the buttons of the phone. I want to call him and tell him that I love him, but shake the thought from my head.

"Don't be so silly, Mia," I say out loud. I know it's impossible to love someone you've only known for a few days. Besides, the thought of clinging on to another man and surrendering my independence makes my skin crawl. As hard as it is for me, I need to learn to live on my own.

Renewed feelings of excitement fill me as my thoughts turn to Japan. I rush to the bedroom and revisit the task of packing my bags. After I finish, I find myself bored again and pacing about, looking for something to do. A smile creeps across my face and I go to the bedroom turned office. Plunking down in the soft leather chair, I stare at the massive desk in front of me, like a giant safe, impossible to crack.

And that is when I noticed a drawer slightly ajar. I grasp the dangly brass handle and pull. My heart jumps. Wasting no time, I search through the files, all immaculately labeled and clearly work related. I move to the drawer above and find his birth certificate and passport. Flipping the cover of the passport I learn that Mitch is thirty-five, but I could have easily asked him his age. Next, I unfold the birth certificate and discover he was born in Carmel, California. This is terrific, now I can narrow my search on the internet.

A cold chill runs up and down my spine as guilt grips me. _If I think I love Mitch, then why am I suspicious of him? Why must I snoop through his things when I can just talk to him and learn all I want to know?_ It must be the secrecy Ben always had about his own family, I tell myself. I close the drawer and prepare to walk away, but find myself pulling open the long drawer in the middle.

My eyes pop, and a gasp escapes me. With a trembling hand I reach into the drawer and pull out the beautiful shiny object that catches my eye. It's the engagement ring Ben gave me. When did Mitch find it? Where was it? More importantly, why didn't he tell me?

Replacing the ring and putting the office back in order I leave the room, vowing never to return. Maybe he found it outside and does not realize it is my engagement ring, but I know that is impossible. Is he keeping it to hock? No, Mitch is a good guy; he must be keeping it because he thinks I do not know about it, and fears it will rekindle my feelings for Ben. Convinced Mitch has taken the ring for good reasons, I continue about my day, watching TV and surfing the internet, my heart ever more exploding with love for him.

Just when I think I am going to go insane with boredom, Mitch returns.

"Hey did you miss me?" he asks as he bounds through the door.

"Of course," I say as I rush toward him and throw my arms around his neck. "You said you'd be back in a few hours."

He gives me a peck on the lips, pushes me away, and then races to the kitchen. "Sorry, babe, I haven't had anything to eat and I'm starving."

"Want me to fix ya something?" I ask as I follow him, trying to mask the hurt in my voice.

"No, I'll just have a few leftovers." He sits at the breakfast bar and eats as he stares at me with wondering eyes. "What have you been up too?"

"Just thinking about you and how sweet you've been to me." I make a start to grab his hand, but stop. "I think Japan is going to be wonderful. I'm so excited, and I love the whole Skype thing."

"I was hoping you would." He pushes back his chair, puts his plate in the sink and walks over to me. We embrace for several minutes and share a semi-passionate kiss before he tells me he has to go back to work.

"Well, I guess I'll watch some TV, then head to bed," I say despondently.

"Sorry, I have a lot of work to do, but I'm taking the weekend off." He squeezes my hands tight and then smiles at my quizzical look. "I don't usually get weekends off Mia. I promise you though, once we are together, I will take on less work."

I silently wonder if all I can look forward to with Mitch is a lot of lonely days. Staying in the house with only my thoughts to entertain me, and then my man running away from me as soon as he arrives home, this will not suit me. Ben always made time for me no matter what was going on. I scold myself for the thought. How could I possibly compare Mitch to Ben? I will have my own career, not only to keep busy, but also because I promised myself never to wholly depend on another man again.

"So will it just be me and you alone in the car? No work?" I ask.

He releases a sigh. "Ah, Mia, I'm sorry we haven't had much time to get to know each other better…I tell ya what…no work during our road trip." A smile stretches across his face. "It'll just be you and me learning all there is to know about one another."

"Thank you," I bubble, "It's going to be a fun road trip. Uh and Mitch, thank you for everything...I mean it."

"My pleasure," he says as he nervously brushes back his hair, and races out of the room.

Later, I lay awake in bed, staring at the light that shines in the hall. I want Mitch to stop working and slip under the covers with me, but I guess he is right; Ben is still in my thoughts.

I wake struggling to breathe. Panic fills me, and I start to twist and kick, but the crushing weight upon me prevents my efforts. Each breath becomes shallower than the next, as if I am a mouse caught in the constricting coils of a snake. Struggling to see my attacker, I can only make out the shape of a man. He grabs my arms, pushing them over my head, pressing them deep into the mattress. My fingers turn cold and tingly, and the stitches in my wrist pull, making me groan out in pain. A heavy hand pushes hard on my mouth just as I start to scream. My teeth tear into my lip, and the taste of sweet, irony blood fills my mouth.

"I took a chance you'd be in bed alone," he hisses. "He already got the goods and is done with you now."

I turn my head from side to side and try to speak, but he only pushes harder.

"Shut up, I don't want to hear your bullshit." His hot breath dances on my face as he continues. "You bitch! You go run to the police! You better not pursue this bullshit Mia or I'll kill you! You get it?"

He pushes harder and my teeth feel like they are going to break. I vigorously shake my head up and down.

"Don't scream or I'll break your fucking neck," he whispers angrily in my ear.

I shake my head again and relax. He removes his hand.

There is silence as I catch my breath. He leans forward in my face and I imagine his chilling gaze, and how unsettled I would be if I were able to see his eyes.

He strokes my hair, shakes his head and says, "You expect me to beg you to return? You're having a lot of fun humiliating me aren't you? After all the time we've had together. After all we've been through. After everything I've done for you. This is how you repay me?"

I begin to squirm, hoping to break free and scream, but he is too strong. He places his hand over my mouth again, I give-up and go limp. The warmth of the tears trickling down my checks offer little comfort as they grow cold from the chill that passes over me. The snapping of the sheer curtain in the breeze brings the realization that the window must have been unlocked.

"You better not scream or I'll kill pretty boy too," says Ben as he slowly removes his hand.

I gasp for breath, my lungs rejoicing as they expand with the cool night air.

"Ben, please leave. If you go now I won't call the police." I maintain a calm voice, hoping he'll take me serious and leave, but I immediately realize I did not choose my words wisely as he tears off my nightshirt.

Pushing my palms against his broad chest, the strength of which used to excite me, but now turns my blood cold, I am unable to escape. He works his hand down to my panties and rips them with one firm tug. I hear the zipper of his pants, and fall into disbelief, realizing what is to come. Struggling is useless and I give up resisting his assault. I turn my head to the side, choking on my tears, telling myself it is okay, at least I know him. It would be so much worse if he were a stranger. Holding my breath I stare into the darkness, praying that Mitch not walk in on us. When he finishes his head drops by my ear and he snickers. He places his hands on my chest and pushes against me as he springs to his feet, making my rib cage flex painfully inward.

"Thanks whore," he whispers with needle-like disdain. "Consider this my going away present. Have a great time fucking around in the military like the slut you are."

In one quick motion he hops out the window. I lay motionless for several minutes before jumping up, and closing and locking it behind him. I collapse back into bed and stare at the shadows that dance like fairies across the ceiling.

As upsetting as the experience is, I do not feel devastated. Some part of me even feels relieved. Maybe he feels vindicated now, maybe he will disappear forever. I convince myself that I have seen the last of Ben.

I slip out of my nightshirt and then pick-up my torn panties, shoving them under the mattress. Quietly entering the bathroom, I hop into the shower and wash off, scrubbing hard to remove every trace of that bastard. I put on a fresh pajama, and then tiptoe into the main room of the house. My eyes adjust to the dark as I sneak alongside the sofa, but Mitch is not there.

A soft glow radiates from his office and I walk over, just short of the door. My heart is pounding out of control and I hold my breath as I peek in. Mitch is slouched over his desk. A lump rises in my throat as I race over, grab his shoulders and begin to shake.

"Wha-" he ekes out before shooting upright.

I raise my hands to my chest and sigh, "Oh my gosh, you're all right."

"Of course I'm all right," says Mitch with a yawn. He stretches and then rubs at his eyes. "Everything okay, Mia?"

"Yeah, of course," I say as I try to relax the worry that creeps across my face. "You were just so still…and why don't you go to bed? You're working too hard."

"I think you're right." He leaves his desk and embraces me.

After several minutes of silence Mitch releases his hold and his wondering eyes meet mine. "Mia, you're trembling. What happened? Are you okay?"

"I just had a bad dream," I say with a smile.

He begins to stroke my hair and as he does so his brow furrows. "Mia, I'll sleep with you tonight." An easy grin spreads over his face. "And it's going to be hard."

"It's okay," I say too quickly. "Let's not spoil our plan…it will be too hard…for both of us."

"Uh-ok," he says surprised.

He follows me into the bedroom and I make an uncomfortable dive for the bed. After giving me a gentle peck on the lips, he leaves. As the dull hum of the hall bathroom fan numbs my senses and sets me to drift off to sleep, I fluff my pillow and shift to my side. The red glow of the clock grows blurry as my eyes tear. I wait impatiently, hoping for the next day to pass smoothly before I finally leave San Antonio for good.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The next morning the alarm is installed, and there is no sight of Ben. I figure with his excellent detective skills, he knows better than to show-up. Mitch spends the afternoon in his office working hard on the McCarthy brief. I only see him when he comes out to eat. My anxiousness over officer training school keeps me distracted from the thought that Mitch and I have spent no time together.

The afternoon soon melts into evening. I do one last check of my bags before Mitch helps me stuff them into the trunk of his car.

"I'm going to really miss you Mia," he says after he slams the trunk shut and turns to face me.

I look upon him with doleful eyes, wishing I could explain to him why I had rejected him the other night.

"Me too," I murmur as I race to him and fling my arms around his waist. Burying my nose into his chest, I inhale deeply, absorbing the scent of his skin. I want to keep it in my memory in case…the thought is too much and I begin to sob.

"Mia, are you ok?" he asks as he squeezes me harder into his chest.

"Yeah, I think so," I sniffle. "It's just so hard for me to be running away like I am, but it's for the best."

"I think you're right," he says with conviction. "You need some time alone to overcome the trauma."

I close my eyes tight and catch my breath, hoping he does not realize that something more has happened, something terrible of which I cannot speak. As I warm in his comforting hold, I scold myself for not telling him about the rape, but I know if I do he'd want me to go to the police, and I just can't do that. I want to ask him, beg him to stay with me tonight, but I don't. Instead, we end the evening with an innocent kiss, and I go to bed alone.

I lie awake that night, worried about the days ahead of me. _Will I be able to handle officer boot camp? Will I meet nice people? Will I be able to resist charming men who are bastards in disguise?_

Before long the morning sun filters through the curtains, casting dull rays of light across the walls. I rise, hoping to get to the kitchen before Mitch, but the smell of fresh brewed coffee tells me my plan has been foiled.

"I was hoping to make you coffee for a change," I say with a yawn.

"Sorry," he says softly, "I didn't get much sleep last night."

"Me either," I confess.

"Oh? Worried about the long trip to Japan?"

"Well that, and officer training school. I hope I can handle it."

"Yeah, well you'll have to learn a lot of rules about how to behave as an officer. Plus there will be a lot of in your face screaming." His eyes sweep over me as if he doesn't want to reveal his thought that I cannot handle it.

"Well, I'm used to the in your face part anyway," I say drearily.

A look of amusement spreads across his face, making me laugh. "Here have some coffee," he says as he slides a mug across the counter.

I grab it up with the skill of a bar room patron, and take tiny sips of the steaming liquid. 'Urban cowboy' I think to myself with a smile. "What's for breakfast," I ask, already very used to having all of that decided for me.

"I figure real pancakes today." He takes out a frying pan and twirls it in the air like a well practiced juggler.

I admire his muscular arms, just bulky enough to be sexy, as they flex under the strain of the movement.

"Wow, you're in a good mood for someone who claims to have had little sleep," I say, feeling relieved that he is not the least bit suspicious over Ben's visit and rape. And then it occurs to me that what Ben did is not okay. He raped me, it doesn't matter that we had consensual sex before, what he did is wrong. Still I do not feel traumatized and I wonder if it's just my low self-esteem, or maybe the reality of it has not sunk in, or maybe I really don't care.

I meet Mitch's dreamy gaze, and he says, "Well, I figure I'm one step closer to helping you."

"Oh? How so, besides housing me, feeding me, and delivering me to the base?" I take a long sip of coffee, staring intently upon him over the brim of my cup. My stomach flutters and I feel a gush of joy, as from some secret spring, bubbling up in my heart.

"Well, Mia, I think you're young and inexperienced. You've been sheltered and this will be a good growth experience." He becomes thoughtful, takes a seat next to me, and continues with a serious tone. "It'll be hard at first, but I think it's necessary."

My brain is jolted as if by electric shock, and then a prickling feeling runs over my scalp. _Did he really say that? He sounds like Ben. _"Wow, you really see me as a helpless idiot!" I sputter in disbelief.

"No, no, not at all," he says, turning to me and grabbing my hands. "Mia, I'm sorry, I'm just used to speaking my mind. I didn't mean to offend you."

"I guess you're right," I finally manage to release, "but I don't like the way you talk down to me, like I'm a child."

"I'm sorry," he says and the hurt in his face makes it genuine.

My eyes drift away from his pitiful stare, and I crack a smile and say, "I'm sorry-" I shake my head from side to side, "I guess I'm a little sensitive and…well, to be honest…I'm a little afraid to be stepping out alone. Traveling to a foreign country to live for a while should be exciting, but I'm a little freaked out."

He rubs his hand over my head as if petting a cat. "I want you to Skype me every day and tell me all about your adventures."

I laugh and say, "I'm sure my day will mostly be sitting at a desk, bored out of my mind."

After eating and helping tidy-up the kitchen, I make a last minute check that I have everything, and then we set out for Alabama.

For the first part of the trip I sleep, only being wakened by Mitch to offer me coffee, or a restroom break. Eventually I stretch and sit upright, and watch as the sun begins to set and the sky turn a cloudless gray.

"You okay?" asks Mitch.

"Sure," I say, although I feel just as groggy as I had earlier.

"You tossed a lot, and mumbled."

"Just a little anxious," I say, and give a dismissive wave of the hand.

His eyes linger on me for as long as they can before returning to the road. "So Mia, how many brothers and sisters do you have?"

Eager to learn all there is to know about Mitch, I am renewed with energy. "I have one sister, what about you?"

"I'm an only child."

"Wow, you're so lucky!"

He bursts with laughter. "I guess you don't care for your sister much?"

"No, she's always been very mean to me. She has me by four years, and always let me know that she didn't appreciate me taking some of the attention from her."

Thinking about Lindsay makes bad memories bubble to the surface. I blame her for falling into Ben's sick, distorted world, even though deep inside, I know that I'm the one at fault.

Mitch breaks the bad memories when he asks, "What about your parents?"

"My father passed away when I was a baby. My mother remarried, but he left before I was even two, so I really didn't know him."

I shrug my shoulders in indifference.

"Wow that must be tough." He reaches over and rubs my arm.

"I don't know. I wasn't used to having a father, but it would've been nice to have a man in my life while growing up."

"I agree," he says with a conciliatory sigh. "I guess we've something in common…no fathers in our lives."

He turns to me with a somber look, but my excitement over our commonality quells as bad thoughts of my childhood flash through my head. I want to share my abuse and disappointments, but wrestle myself out of doing so. _You'll sound pathetic Mia! Don't give him too much information. You made that mistake with Ben._

"Where did you grow-up?" I ask, changing the subject.

"California."

"So you were born in California? What city?" I ask expectantly.

"Carmel," he returns with a smirk.

I release a thoughtful 'hmmm', to which he responds, "That okay with you?"

"Oh…sorry…Carmel is very beautiful…I hear." I nervously glance out the passenger window, wondering if my suspicions are obvious. "So I have a secret to share," I continue with vim as I force myself to look at Mitch. "I once got in trouble for smoking marijuana in school."

"Really?" he says surprised. "Wow, no…I don't believe you."

"Yeah…what about you, have you ever been in trouble?" I watch his expressions closely, but his look of amusement only intensifies.

"I've never smoked pot," he says with decision.

"But have you ever been in trouble?" I push.

"Mia, you're a terrible liar ya know." He glances at me, giggles and then reaches over and grabs my hand, giving it a firm squeeze.

"You've never smoked _marijuana_," he says, over pronouncing marijuana.

"Why do you say that?" I say, feeling hurt.

"Who calls pot marijuana? I mean if you'd said weed, skunk, herb, grass or even ganja, I may've believed you."

I begin to gnaw at the insides of my mouth and wring my hands.

"C'mon Mia, just come out with it. What is it you want to ask?" Amusement skirts his tone.

"Well, I guess I can't get anything past you," I say spiritlessly.

"I already told you can ask me anything. I don't want to build a relationship on mistrust." He looks at me and nods his head, encouraging me to go ahead.

I inhale, followed by a heavy sign. "Well, when Ben came that day he said….he said you have a criminal record, and dared me to ask you about it."

Mitch chuckles and grasps the steering wheel with both hands until his knuckles turn white. A smile creeps across his face, but his lip doesn't curl to reveal the perfect pearly white teeth I've come to love.

"I don't have a criminal record," he proclaims. "Why would you listen to him anyway? You know he's a lair, Mia. He'd say anything to get you back."

"Okay, I believe you," I say, "but thought I'd ask just the same. I can ask you anything, remember?"

"Of course," he responds as he exits the highway. "I think it's time we turn in for the night. I'll get you to the base early tomorrow morning."

We arrive at a mediocre hotel and I stay watching TV as he goes out for food. I find myself troubled by my conversation with Mitch. I wonder if there is some truth to Ben's accusation, but I searched it and never found a thing. _Mia, stop doing this! Mitch is a good guy. Besides who wouldn't get pissed-off over being accused of something they didn't do?_

The sound of scratching distracts me. _Mitch is back and his hands full._ I race to the door and fling it open. A gasp gets stuck in my throat, causing me to sputter and choke. Sweaty and out of breath, Ben stands before me. Resting one hand on the door frame, and holding his side with the other, he stoops over, staring down at me with hollow eyes.

"Wha-" I blubber, as I feel the blood drain from my face.

"Mia, Mitch did this to me," he whispers as he removes his hand from his side to reveal a blood soaked shirt.

"I…I…I don't understand." I lift my hand, covering my gaping mouth.

A subtle laugh escapes him, causing him to grimace and fold over like a delicate flower in a strong breeze.

"Still don't believe me?"

"Well…how…what…why are you here?" I race my fingers through my hair. My heart is pounding like a thunderous hammer and I start to feel dizzy.

"I followed you here…all I wanted to do was warn him…and he pulled a knife on me." He makes a sound like whistling through his teeth.

"No…no…he'd never do that." I shake my head vigorously.

"Mia, call the police." He looks at me with sad eyes that appear incredibly dark against the paleness of his skin.

"I…I need to think," I stammer as I go back into the room and collapse in a chair. _Ben raped me; he cannot be trusted; while Mitch has been nothing but goodness._

Ben slides down to the concrete. "Mia please, I need some help. I'm bleeding a lot."

I cannot let Ben die, despite what he has done to me. I snap back to reality and find myself in automatic as I grab the phone and dial 911. I tell Ben the police are on the way, and begin pacing about the room, waiting for Mitch, hoping he has an explanation.

When Mitch arrives, he drops the food and runs to Ben's side, placing a hand on his shoulder. "My God man, what happened?"

"Get away from me you fucking bastard!" shouts Ben as he sinks further to the ground, cringing from Mitch's touch.

"Mia, Mia, did you do this?" shouts Mitch as he rushes into the room in a panic. He grabs my hands and examines them. "Did he hurt you?"

I am stunned, and after several seconds I respond. "No…he didn't hurt me. He arrived here like this. He said you did it Mitch." My eyes swell with tears as I feel my world crumble beneath me.

"Mia, I'd never do this…I have no reason to. Mia, look at me." He lifts my face in his hands and stares at me with penetrating eyes. I can feel his sorrow in the depths of my soul. I blink, sending salty streams tumbling down my cheeks.

"You think he did this to himself?" I ask incredulously.

"I don't know Mia. He needs help."

I look past Mitch and watch as Ben slumps over into a puddle of blood. My legs begin to shake and I quickly sit down on the edge of the bed. Mitch sits beside me, folding me into his arms.

It seems like hours before the paramedics arrive, place Ben on a gurney and hook an IV to him.

"Who's this man?" asks a plain closed police officer.

"Ben -," I say as I rise from the bed.

"So what happened here?" he asks as his partner circles me and Mitch, looking us up and down.

I tell him everything I know, despite the guilt I feel for implicating Mitch in a crime he so passionately claims he did not commit.

"No weapons here," says the partner. "No signs of a struggle." He moves in closer to Mitch and examines the bruising on his face. "This guy's shiner ain't so fresh, and I think we'd see some marks on the girl."

"What's your relationship to this man? Why wuz he here?" asks the officer.

"Umm…I'm his ex-fiancé."

A smile crosses the man's rough, stubbly face. "And who's this guy…the other man?" He glares at Mich.

"I'm just a friend helping her out," interjects Mitch. "She's joined the military and I'm getting her to base."

"Ya mind stripping to ya boxers there buddy and letting me hav's a look?" He says and knits his brows.

"I wasn't even here when Ben arrived," responds Mitch coldly.

"He wasn't," I add.

"So then you have nothing to hide." He sticks out his sausage like index and middle fingers and gives them a roll.

"Unless I'm under arrest, then I suggest you stop interrogating me," retorts Mitch.

Another officer races into the room and blurts, "Hey 'tective Costa, we just got's a call in. A man was apprehended. Tried robbin' a liquor store and they found a knife on him. Some type of huntin' knife, which seems similar to the one used on the victim."

The detective becomes thoughtful and asks, "Any ID on the victim?"

"Yes sir, his wallet's on him."

The detective peeks out the door, pulls out his cell phone and steps outside.

I grab Mitch's hand and squeeze. "This is terrible. I had no idea he was following us….did you?"

"Uh, no…no," says Mitch with a jerk of the head as if I had drawn him back from a far off place.

"Why would he accuse you of such a horrible thing?" I feel my face redden as the anger boils inside of me.

"He needs help Mia. He can't let go. I just hope you're safe where you go."

"Ok, Detective Costa wants to get both yours contact info," says an officer. He pulls a pencil from behind his ear and smirks. "Ya know…just in case we need to bring ya's in for questionin'."

We give the officer our information and are eventually left alone, with a promise that we are not out of their suspicions.

Mitch and I get into bed and hold each other tight.

"Mitch, I'm worried about Ben…I mean he's a horrible person, but I don't want him to die. Do you think he'll be alight?" I hold back my tears, wanting to hate Ben for what he has done to me, wanting to think he got exactly what he deserves.

"He'll be fine, Mia," he says sympathetically. "I got the name of the hospital from the paramedics. I'll call to check in on him in the morning."

"Really," I ask in disbelief, "even though he has accused you of trying to kill him?"

"Of course, I understand how you feel. And believe it or not, I don't want to see Ben die either."

"I just don't get why he'd blame you. I…I'm so angry about that. That's really evil."

I lay my head on Mitch's chest, stare into the darkness of the room, and listen to his heartbeat. I rub my hand up and down his bare chest, feeling his smooth, toned body.

"Yeah, well, he's angry. He has nothing on me, I'll be okay." He bends an arm behind his head, and I know he won't be getting much sleep


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

I drag my eyes open and am greeted by golden rays of sun peeping around the curtain. Mitch is racing about the room, throwing items into a bag, and checking in drawers and under the bed. Panic overcomes me, crushing me like a blind punch to the chest.

I glance at the clock and say, "I thought we were going to get an early start."

"Yeah, sorry, we really need to get going."

We drive in silence for several minutes as I stare dreamily out the passenger side window. Bushy, green trees stretch to the sky, waving their branches in the air as if greeting me. I roll down the window and inhale the cool air, saturated with scents of earth, and hints of pine. I imagine I am a bird flying through the forest on my way south to the warmth, and a better life. But sadness creeps in as Ben's face flashes before me, sorrowful and pained, with a hint of fear. I had only seen that look once before. It was a warm, spring day, when we were still happy, and we were jogging when a pit-bull came from nowhere and chased Ben. The neglectful owner, fortunately, came running around the corner, and grabbed the leash. Ben explained to me later that he had once been attacked by a dog when he was a child.

"I really wanted to visit Ben before leaving today," I say as I turn to Mitch.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that," he returns with a pitiful sigh, not taking his eyes off the road.

"He was gravely injured…and he pointed the finger at you. I think you'd be more concerned," I assert myself.

"I know Mia and I'm sorry. I understand, well…can accept that you still have feelings for him, but not reporting to the base on time would be disastrous."

I clear my throat and shift in my seat, determined to be a new, more confident me. My tone is higher-pitched than I want as I say "Why can't you understand how I feel?"

Mitch knits his brows and tightens his grip on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white with streaks of red. "Because, Mia, in case you're having a lapse in memory, he tried to kill you."

"I…I don't think he would've killed me," I say demurely. "He just over reacted."

"Really Mia," he rasps through clinched teeth. "If your self esteem is truly that low, then think about me. He has accused me of trying to murder him, and you think I'm not worried? God knows what he has up his sleeve. I've been trying to protect you all along, but Ben isn't just a mean tempered man, he's evil."

I gulp hard, realizing he is right. "I…guess so…I'm sorry."

What a fool I am, feeling pity for the man who raped me and burned me. Sure we had good times together, but I remind myself that was in the past. Once Ben had me under his control he revealed his true self, and never changed back. Do I want him to die? No, but I am determined not to shed a tear if he does.

I stare out the window, causing myself a headache by constant thought. Then, I realize that Mitch and I have shared few words. There are so many questions I want to ask, so I push Ben out of my mind and focus on Mitch, the man I see in my future.

"Mitch?" I start as I turn to him, looking at his profile. "Where did you go to high school?"

"Wow, that was a long time ago," he says with a smile. "I went to Carmel High School."

"So were you a good student?"

"No I wasn't." he laughs as if remembering good times past.

"But you went on to law school," I say.

"Yeah, well, I just wasn't focused in high school, but I changed, and after graduating went to community college for a few years, then on to Berkley."

"So what made you change?" I ask, curiosity burning me.

Mitch clears his throat and I can see I've made him uncomfortable. I make a start to apologize when he tells me that his mother had fallen ill, and money had become tight. That is when he knew he had to take charge. Working several jobs he was able take care of his mother. He also went to night school, and was still able to save and invest. The years he spent at Berkeley were funded by loans and scholarships.

My heart sings over his maturity and ability to take a bad situation and make it better.

"I'm impressed," I press out as I stare at him with adoration. "Really, you didn't fall apart."

He reaches over, pressing his hand on my thigh.

"Mia, I've learned a lot and I've made mistakes along the way."

"What do you want out of life?" I throw at him as I place my hand atop his.

"I want a wife and a family. I want children that won't have to grow-up in a broken home or endure any of the hardships I have."

Fairies dance in my stomach and stars sparkle in my eyes.

"Met too," I whisper.

He turns to me, reaches an arm over my shoulders and pulls me close. I enjoy the warmth of his body and inhale the scent of his cologne. But then I sabotage myself, like an emotional masochist, as I remember how Ben too was very sweet and gentle at first.

"Mitch," I say without thinking, "Why do you never ask me questions, especially about Ben?"

He stiffens and makes a move to remove his arm, but stops.

"I don't want to know, I guess," he says. "At least not yet, he's too much a part of our lives and we need to be rid of him."

There is something in his voice that sends icy spiders up and down my spine, but I quickly recover and tell him that I agree. Joining the military, after all, is my first step toward forgetting Ben and starting a new life.

I remain snuggling in his side, like a cat eager to be pet, and imagine myself walking on the beach with Mitch, the waves cresting over our feet as I secretly look for a bush for us to fall behind and make love in the sand, under the light of a full moon. Before long, I am brought back to reality when the first base sign appears. My heart begins to race. I want to stay next to Mitch, warm, safe and happy. There is so much more I want to say to him and learn about him, but perhaps another time.

"You must have a lot on your mind," I finally say, breaking the silence that had slipped past me as I day dreamed.

"Yeah, I do, Mia," he says apologetically. "There's work, and then I wonder what Ben'll do next. I knew he wouldn't just go away." His voice pitches higher and he slams his palm into the steering wheel, making me jump. "Why does he have to go to this extent to get you back? He's nuts, Mia."

I watch him, wide-eyed and startled. Never having seen him react in an uncontrolled manner, I am unsure how to respond. Sitting away from him, I push my fingers through my hair, take a deep breath and say, "Well, you're right, he's unstable. I guess its best we just leave him behind, permanently. I know it in my heart, but it's all so sudden and dramatic. We have nothing to hide about what happened, so it's all going to be okay." I reach over and grab his clammy hand. "They did say they found a suspect, right?"

"Yeah, they did…I just worry he'll never go away that's all." He turns briefly, flashing me a contrived smile. "Looks like we're here."

The guards allow us to pass through the gate and I stare out the window, watching military personnel shuffle about. Fear strikes me cold as I realize I know nothing about military ways, and once again I wonder if I have made a rash decision. I convince myself that this is the best thing I could have done. I escape Ben for good, and now have an opportunity to strike out on my own and meet new people.

"You're suddenly quiet," says Mitch as he parks the car.

"Yeah, I was just thinking things are going to go well for me. I'm giving myself a fresh start, and I plan to do things right," I say with decision.

Mitch falls silent, the smile leaving his face. "I'm really going to miss you Mia."

"Me too," I say, my heart wrung over our inevitable separation.

Mitch grabs my hand and places it on his chest. "I mean it, Mia. I'll really miss you. Your beautiful smile…your innocence, everything about you."

"It's a temporary leave," I say. "I'll Skype you every chance I get and I'm sure I get time off, which I plan to spend with you."

I look upon him with dewy eyes and imagine us hiking through a forest, its floor covered with vibrant green ferns, and trees stretching endlessly toward the sun. The air is moist and cool, and rays of light push through the canopy, spotlighting the castoff leaves that lie motionless, decaying back into the earth.

His eyes shine like evening stars and his lip curls as he smiles, revealing his perfect white teeth.

"I'd like that," he says, and stretches across the seat, planting his lips on mine. I melt into his soft, warm lips, longing to hold our embrace, never letting go.

After several minutes we pull apart. We stare at each other for what feels an enternity as he holds my face in his hands. Tears well-up in my eyes and he brushes them away with his thumb. He tilts his head to the side and smiles as a parent might when watching their child do something very endearing.

"We better get your things in the dorm," he says softly as he releases me.

We move my belongings into the base dormitory. And when all is done, we hold each other tight on last time, and I cannot help but sob.

"Mia, are you crying again?" he asks.

"Yeah, I guess I am. I hate being so damn emotional," I say as I wipe away my tears.

He brushes his hand over my head and smiles, "Let's plan to meet over Christmas. It's only a few months away. That's not so far off."

"That's when Ben wanted to get married," I say without thinking.

Pain, like a man being tortured, rips across Mitch's face.

"I'm, I'm sorry…I…I don't know why I said that."

"It's all right," Mitch says somberly, "The wounds still fresh." He lifts my hand and gazes at my bandaged wrist. "Take care of this now; I don't want you to get an infection."

"Thanks, and I will…and thank you Mitch for being so kind to me. Really, no one else would have stood up for me and saved me like you did."

"Save you?" he says as he holds back laughter.

"Yes, you did save me and I love you for it." I look deep into his eyes, hoping for some kind of sign.

He glows as if the heavens opened up and cast its angelic rays upon him.

"I love you too," he says and plants his lips on mine.

I feel ashamed for my display of emotion. I have broken my promise to myself, but I do love him, and imagine a future together, but there is nagging hesitation in my heart, and despite where our relationship may go, the last thing I want to do is hurt him.

We hug one last time and a promise to stay in touch.

I go to my room and look out the window, wondering what my future will bring. Just as I start to imagine cheery trees in full blossom and clear crisp lakes, the door opens with a bang, startling me.

"Oh, hey there, didn't mean to scare you," says a heavy set girl, struggling with an oversized duffle bag.

"Oh, no…it's okay," I say as I spring to my feet and race over to help her, but she shoos me away and manages to pitch the bag on her bed. "I'm Mia, by the way."

"Mia…Momma Mia!" she laughs as she gives me a rough handshake. "I'm Katie."

She releases a loud whoop and falls back on her bed. She looks me up and down and after several seconds of uncomfortable silence, starts to giggle. "Ah, you're a quiet one, I can tell," she says.

"So I've been told," I say, unable to find an interesting response.

"Well, I can tell right off you're fresh out of college and have no military experience." She shifts upright and races her fingers through her short brown hair. "Couldn't find a job?"

"Ummm…basically, yes."

_Already giving a weak impression, great!_

"Do you have any idea what you've gotten yourself into?" She looks serious then breaks into a smile.

"No, not really, I mean I know it is going to be tough, but I hope things go smoothly for me." I start cracking my knuckles.

"Yeah that's for sure. You ready to cross the blue line?" She leans forward, her hazel eyes burning on me.

I am taken aback by her manly behavior, which doesn't match her baby face. "What does that mean?"

"Ha! Poor thing you know nothing about it. We cross the line to show our commitment to the air force. You see I was enlisted and now I am here to become an officer." Smugness shrouds her.

"Oh, wow, that's terrific…so you know a lot." I'm thankful that she is my roomie.

"Yes, yes I do. And honey, if you don't find your voice soon, you're gonna have a hell of a time."

"Uh, well if I'm quiet and don't bring attention to myself, I'll be all right," I respond as if trying to convince myself against the obvious. I'm meek, awkward and shy. I can't hide that from anyone. It's as if I'm wearing a sigh that says, 'I'm an idiot'.

"Quiet will help, but ya need more than that. You gotta look mad, especially in front of the OT." She laughs as a look of confusion creeps across my face. "The training officer…he'll sniff out weaknesses and let ya have it. So just keep your pissed-off face, but don't stare him down. Better just to look straight ahead. And when he yells in your face, just block it out."

"Oh I can block it out all right," I say, "but I need to mask my emotions, you're right about that. I've never had much of a poker face." I suddenly wonder of I've revealed too much.

"And most important," she adds as she approaches the door, "When you call off, you've got to be loud. Boy, you squeak like a mouse and that's like having a target on ya back…Now let's get some chow. We have to be up super early in the morning. I bet ya ain't used to that…being a pretty girl and all."

She slaps my shoulder, the same way I've seen men do when chumming around, only her hand lingers longer than I like. I feel as if I have voluntarily checked myself into prison. But Katie continues to talk almost non-stop the entire time. I immediately like her and am glad I've found someone who can carry a conversation without needing much input from me.

Come day time we make our formations and cross the blue line, just as Katie said. We are assigned an upperclassmen and a flight. Lucky for me, Katie and I are grouped together. At the end of the day I am exhausted and even Katie doesn't want to talk.

I lie awake in bed; troubled that I was unable to Skype Mitch, but I'm certain he realizes I have no time for him. My worries disappear as Katie's rhythmic snoring makes my eyes grow heavy, and as I drift off to sleep, images of my flight commander flash through my mind. During training I tried to keep my eyes off of him, but could not resist peeking when his back was to me. Through his loose fitting camos I could just make out his muscular form. His deep voice, that made my ears vibrate like a glass about to shatter under the song of a soprano, sent tremors of excitement through my body. But then I imagine his face is scared and his personality miserable. He turns to look at me and his eyes are like charcoal.

_Ugh, another Ben, what is wrong with you Mia?_

The next morning I am spared the curiosity of my commander's face when he takes exceptional notice of me. I am unable to do anything to his satisfaction, and he yells at me in the most humiliating manner in front of the flight. Angry over not knowing what I had done I stare him in the eye, and my heart skips. His face is not at all as I had imagined. His jaw line is strong and clean shaven. His green eyes sparkle as he hovers just inches from my face, as if enjoying his show of power. Part of me wants to cry and another part wants to kiss him. I question my own sanity.

When I return to my room with Katie, she closes the door a little too fast and rushes to sit at the end of my bed. I collapse on my pillow and cover my eyes, trying to control the tears that threaten to engulf me.

"You gonna cry?" asks Katie in a peppy tone I don't appreciate.

"Hell no," I say with a sniffle. "What the hell is wrong with him anyway? What did I do?"

"You did nothing," Her hand falls on my leg. "I think he took notice of you because you're cute."

A rage bubbles inside of me and I throw her hand off my leg. I sit up on my elbows and tell her straight, "Look Katie, I know I appear like a stupid, weak fool, but I'm not. And I tell what else I'm not…a lesbian."

Katie's stares at me, mouth agape, and retorts, "What, you think I'm hitting on you!"

Pangs of remorse flood over me when I see the hurt in her flushed face. "Look…I'm sorry…I'm just having a bad day."

I fall back on my bed, cover my mouth and scream into my hands.

"Yeah, I can see you're stressed out. After all, you're new to all this. You have something against gays anyway?" Her tone is wounded.

"Absolutely not…but I don't swing that way." I want to clarify my position on the subject.

Katie leaves me alone and I have a good cry. My day is so structured that I limit time for self pity, fearing my face will plump and turn red. I still have to show at the dining hall, even though I just want to skip my meal all together. Not trusting Katie, I need to be cool and collected, not letting anyone know just how fragile I am.

I dab on some foundation and tell myself its okay to stand up for myself. It's best to set Katie straight now before she gets the wrong impression. How disastrous would it be if she thinks she has a chance with me and my actions do nothing to indicate otherwise? It's hard for me to be mean, no, not mean, but firm. The new Mia will be firm and it will be hard at first, but I think I will learn to like her.

When I enter the dining hall I sit with my flight, but they are just about finished with their meals and leave. _So much for forming friendships. _I feel myself counting down to graduation day, and my departure to Japan. I inhale deeply and nibble at a piece of bread.

The dizzying noise in the cafeteria turns into a monotonous buzz and I imagine myself sitting in a fancy restaurant, eating the most delectable hors d'oeuvres as I patiently wait for Mitch's arrival. But then reality rushes over me like an open floodgate when I make eye contact with the flight commander. Sitting at the table across from me, with several other men, he looks away, pretending not to notice as my face flushes. _Good job Mia, space out while staring at that asshole!_ Not wanting to be obvious, I wait until my heart returns to a normal beat before getting up to leave.

I clear my tray and when I head for the door, I look back at the commander's table, but he is not there. I step out into the cool night air and inhale its fresh earthy scent, the smell just before a good rain. The full moon shows its round face and casts silvery rays on the concrete path I walk. Flashes of lightening dance in the sky and I quicken my pace back to the dorm. Just as I round the building someone grabs my arm and pulls me behind an overgrown Cocoplum.

"No Ben, you can't do this to me!" I scream as I pull away.

"Shhhh," says a gruff voice. "Who the hell is Ben?"

"Uh…uh..." – I squint, and through the shadows make out the commander's face – "Commander…"

"Commander McCoy, you forgot my name?"

His voice, while still powerful, is mellow and friendly. Excitement overwhelms me and the beating of my heart quickens when he lifts his hand to my brow and sweeps back my hair.

"Sorry," I mumble, "It's just you shout so much…I really couldn't make out your name."

He laughs and moves his hand down, resting it on my shoulder. The darkness masks the color of his eyes, but I imagine they are not burning green anger at me now.

"Relax, Mia, I'm only an asshole during training." He moves in close, the heat from his body radiating through my clothes.

"Particularly with me, I notice," I shoot back with a mind to defend myself.

His smile broadens as he dips his head and his lips meet mine. They are soft, plump and warm. I hesitate, and then push him away.

"What are you doing?" I demand as I wipe the saliva from my lips.

_No new relationships Mia!_

"Hey now, no need to get upset, I like you Mia and I feel badly for the way I treated you earlier." He moves in close again.

"Then why did you single me out? I mean the people in my flight act like they don't even want to see me. They ignore me, like I'm a rotten egg." I cross my arms.

He smiles as if my anger amuses him. "Of course, they don't want to be associated with the outcast. Hey, I just wanted you to notice me."

I knit my brows and say, "How can I not notice you? For Pete's sake you're my commander, we all notice you. Seriously, why are you giving me such a hard time? I'm just so sick and tired of people fucking with me-"

He reaches up, placing a hand on my mouth. "Quiet," he says, "You don't want people to hear. Geez, I'm sorry. Sounds like you've been bottling things up."

"I have," I admit, feeling foolish for going off on my commander of all people. "Look, can you just stop messing with me…I'm really trying hard to fit in here."

"Yeah, anything…tell ya what…I think I'll put the heat on that big dike roomie of yours."

"Katie…why?" I feel sickened by his randomness is selecting people to pick on.

"I'm just kidding," he says, "but only if you go out with me, the first Saturday you're allowed off base."

"So you're black mailing me?" I want to be angry, but there is something about his tone that makes me think he is just playing.

He grabs me firmly by my upper arms and pulls me into the warmth of his body. His lips meet mine once again and this time I do not resist. One hand moves to my shoulder and finds its way down my back. With his free hand he pushes his fingers through my hair and roughly jerks back my head. I wince, and a spike of anger rips through me, but then his lips find my neck, and all is forgotten.

Sprinkles of rain begin to fall and thunder cracks, like an angry warning from God. It brings me back to my senses, and after several minutes of kissing and groping, I break free and say with a heavy breath, "It's close to curfew."

"Yeah, really sucks," he says as he wipes the rain from my face, "I'll see you tomorrow, and by the way, when no one's listening, you can call me Logan." His hand sweeps my jaw and he leaves.

When I enter my room there is some scuffling and a tall, slender girl jumps from Katie's bed. Her auburn hair is in disarray, and she makes a futile attempt to pat it down. She gives me a curt 'hello' and races out the door.

"Sorry," I say, holding back a giggle, "but it's close to curfew."

"Lost track of time…does my homosexuality bother you?" She wipes her mouth and sits upright.

"No, I told you I don't care…I just don't go that way…that's all…but…" I sit on my bed, fingers entwined.

"But what?" asks Katie, she leans forward and glares at me.

"Well, do you know that girl very well? I mean we just got here." I can barely bring myself to make eye contact.

"Oh," she says with a sigh of relief, "no we just met, so what? You only live once, that's my motto."

"So you don't feel bad acting on your emotions like that?" I immediately feel stupid for asking because she breaks out in laughter, as an adult might do when an inexperienced child makes a ridiculous assumption.

"What you're a nun or something? It's religion that makes you feel bad for acting on your desires. What's wrong with giving in to emotions? I mean if I want to sleep with someone, why not? If it feels good it can't be bad." She claps her hands together and begins to shake her head in amusement.

"But don't you want to fall in love and settle down with someone?" I feel ashamed of my desire for a fairy tale romance.

"Of course I do, Mia, just not yet."

"Don't you worry about getting hurt?" I feel my internal fists pounding on the wall that holds back my carnal desires.

"Hitting on the wrong girl at a gay bar, yea." She stares off as if reminiscing on wild days past.

"No, I mean your feelings?"

"Hell, no, I'm in it for the sex, nothing more. Gee-wee Mia, you need to lighten up. You're so damn cute, I'm sure there are plenty of guys who'd like to rattle your bones. You should try it sometime. You may like it and even become a jolly person like me. You're way too repressed."

Her jovial manner makes it hard for me to take her serious. "Well, thing is, I think I'm in love with someone, and I'd feel terrible if I cheated on him."

"You cheating on him with your heart or your pussy?" she says matter-of-factly.

Her vulgarity is like sandpaper on my nerves, but her candidness impresses me. I respond with a touch of a chuckle, "My pussy, I guess."

"Then don't worry about it, Mia. Just be careful not to let your emotions get in the way when you're playing around...that could be dangerous, especially for you." Her eyes light up and she says, "Mia, did you find someone?"

I try not to smile, but the excitement I feel, and the encouragement I receive from Katie to act on my sinful desires shows. "I suppose so."

"Who, who" - and then as if she understands the relationship may be taboo she says - "Never mind, don't tell me. Just go for it Mia. Damn half the people join the military just to get laid."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Logan pays me no mind as promised. Instead, he picks on some of the more manly men in my flight and they spout off about it during lunch.

"Boy if he weren't my commander I'd beat his ass," whispers one.

A few other's nod in agreement.

I eat my meal, stare off dreamily and imagine myself with Logan, behind the Cocoplum. I am pulled back to reality when Katie jabs me with her elbow and whispers, "Gee, you seem spacey."

"Yeah, sorry, I've a bit of an imagination." I scan the room for Logan, but don't see him.

"Who're looking for?" she asks, and raises her brow.

"Oh no one," I say behind a furtive smile.

"You know next weekend we can go off base."

"Yeah, you doing something?" I ask, not caring, but keeping polite conversation.

"Well, yeah, are you?" Her eyes dissect me.

"I think so."

"Good then you won't mind if I have a friend over to our room? You won't be there, right?"

A wave of relief passes over me and I say, "No, go right ahead. You have your auburn girl."

"Ha, silly Mia, I'm past the auburn girl. It's a cute brunette with curly hair I'm aiming for now."

I muffle my laugh and say, "You're like a man, conquer them all!"

"Mia, it ain't just men. You need to get out more. You need to bang that guy you're looking for."

I stop scanning the cafeteria, worried she will follow my eyes and discover my secret lover.

_Lover, Mia? Can you call him that?_

I excuse myself to refill my glass. Having limited time to eat, I turn to race back to the table and bump into Logan, spilling water on him.

"Uh…sorry Lt. McCoy," I say, feeling mortified.

"OT Barton, you need to slow down and pay attention!" he shouts as he rubs at the wet spot spreading across his shirt. Beneath his rough exterior I sense amusement over my clumsiness.

"Yes Sir, Lt. McCoy," I say, looking around to see if anyone is watching.

He moves in close, shoves a note into my hand and brushes past me without another word.

I push the folded paper into my pocket and return to the table. After finishing my meal, I leave with my flight and head back to the dormitory. I am anxious to read the note, but I wait until I am in the privacy of my room.

'Mia, I can't stop thinking about you. I've been crazy busy and may not get a chance to meet with you again. So meet me at 5th and Forest Hill Saturday at 2100.'

The next few days pass slowly and Logan occasionally gives me grief, but I'm sure it's all in keeping with appearances. At night I have trouble sleeping as my thoughts shift between Mitch and Logan. I want to remain faithful to Mitch, but I am so incredibly attracted to Logan. My heart inexplicably begins to ache for Logan, but I convince myself it's nothing more than my repressed sexual desires. It becomes increasingly difficult for me not to stare at him with lustful eyes during training. His rough voice and the pleasure he seems to take in having control makes me burn with desire.

One evening, taking advantage of my new trainee status, I intentionally go to dinner late and eat alone, hoping to bump into Logan again. I scan the room, finding him, my heart leaps and it's difficult for me not to smile, but he does not look at me. I leave, feeling dejected.

"OT Barton," calls Logan from behind.

I want to rush around and embrace him, but I turn slowly, gulp hard and say, "Sir."

He glances around, tips his head to the side and mouths, "Follow me."

He walks toward the high rope fields. I follow at a distance and he disappears into the shadows of the field. The moon is shining bright, lighting my way. I imagine I am Orpheus passing through the gates of Hades into the underworld. Logan rounds a storage shed and when I approach he grabs me, pulling me into the warmth of his body.

His breath is heavy with desire as his lips meet mine. I pull out his shirt tails and push my hands under his t-shirt, my fingers racing over his speed bump abs. My body tingles with excitement, and then he pulls back my head and bites my neck.

"You a vampire?" I ask angrily, and then the pain subsides as he nibbles where he just bit.

"I wish I were. I'd make you my immortal sex slave forever." He trusts his hand into my pants and begins to caress.

I peer up at the night sky and find myself so enraptured by his touch that I cannot move. He presses my back against the shed, releases his hold on me and removes my pants. He lifts me with ease. I grab his flexed biceps as I open my legs, wrapping them around him. Wasting no time he roughly penetrates me. I writhe with pleasure and ignore the guilty feelings that bubble up inside of me. The excitement of making love to a strange man is more pleasurable than I ever imagined.

Afterward, Logan kisses my forehead and strokes my hair. "Mia, we need to do this again, but properly…you deserve better."

I cannot decipher his expression under the glow of the moon, but I imagine he looks upon me with large puppy-dog eyes.

"Sure," I say.

I leave first and along the way I scold myself for having feelings for him. _You barely know him Mia. No new relationships. _It occurs to me that despite succumbing to our animal desires, Logan has respect for me. I like that feeling, and imagine how hurt I'd be if he had thanked me and then told me to fuck off. Katie might like using and being used, but I realize now that I am too sensitive for that. But then my heart longs for Mitch. I don't want to get emotionally involved with Logan, and remind myself that he cannot be more than a toy.

When I enter my room Katie is already in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.

"What's up?" I ask, curiously.

"Ah, I don't think the brunette, as you say, swings that way." She plumps her pillow and rolls on her side.

"Oh, well, sorry to hear that. You seem pretty upset about it," I say surprised that she actually can feel the pain of rejection.

"Yeah, well, it's okay, it'll pass." Her eyes fall on me as she continues, "Just remember, Mia, it always passes. Things don't always turn out as planned, but then, suddenly something great happens." She closes her eyes and tells me good night.

"I guess that's a good way of looking at it." I say as I turn out the light.

It has been nearly three weeks, and I still cannot bring myself to call Mitch. I've been unfaithful, and need time to heal from the germ of guilt that has entered my soul. I tell myself that when I go to Japan, Logan will become nothing more than a memory. For now I revel in my fantasies.

When Saturday rolls along, I brim with excitement and fix myself up for an evening with Logan. Catching a ride with a member from my flight, I get dropped off close to my planned destination. The street is still and mysteriously dim in the pale radiance of the moonlight. I spot the figure of a man leaning against a building, and as I approach he walks forward to meet me.

"Mia, you made it," he says with genuine joy.

I throw my arms around his neck and give him a peck on the lips. But when I try to slip away he holds me tight and kisses me with a burning passion. After several seconds we break for air.

"God I missed you," he said. "I want to take you to a hole in the wall pizza joint."

"Sounds good," I say, "I'm starving."

After we eat we stroll down the sidewalk, hand in hand when he says, "I'm taking you to the Red House Inn."

"What's that?" I ask.

"It's an okay hotel, the best we can get around here anyway. I really didn't want to be close to the areas the other airmen frequent."

I'm thrilled and hope that our romantic evening together lives up to all my naughty dreams, but his sweaty hands and nervous behavior leaves me wondering. It crosses my mind that he may be having second thoughts. And then it occurs to me that maybe he finds me intimidating, and fears he cannot meet my expectations.

The hotel seems quaint, but anything but a five star. Logan gets the key, and before we enter he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a blindfold.

"What's that?" I ask with trepidation.

"It's just a blindfold, Mia." His hands tremble as he holds it up.

"That's what I thought, you plan on wearing it?" I take a step back.

He reaches out, grabbing my arm and pulls me close. "No, Mia, I want you to wear it. You ready for a little excitement?" His eyes light-up.

"I…I'm not so sure." Fear shoots through me and I worry I have made a terrible mistake. _Maybe Ben's right, I'm too stupid, too innocent to survive in this world and need someone to protect me._

He releases a nervous giggle and says, "Mia, I have a big evening planned for us. I just want to play around a little. I want to tempt you, tease you, and excite you in ways you never thought possible."

Determined to make good on the pact I made with myself, I clear my throat and say, "So it this why you've been nervous? You had some sick evening planned, and you worried how I would take it?"

The smile drops from his face and he says, "I'm not the least bit nervous, Mia." He grabs my arm, twists it with a painful jerk and looks down at me with hot eyes. "You want to know what I want to do, I want to blindfold you and lick you until you come over and over again."

I'm crossed between feelings of terror and excitement. In a split second I question my sanity when I agree to play his game. He ties the blindfold behind my head and I momentarily panic, wondering if I am making a bad choice. Then Katie's voice pops in my head, telling me I need to let down my guard and experiment. I gulp hard, and let the excitement I have been so stubbornly trying to repress, rush over me.

I relax as best I can and let Logan guide me into the room. My heart leaps when I hear the deadbolt click. He directs me to the bed and lays me down. I'm still as a leaf in a windless night. Slowly he removes my clothes, my skin prickles at his touch. I shudder as the chill in the air caresses my body.

I gasp when he yanks my arms over my head. I twist my fingers, trying to keep the blood in them. There is a jangling and the feel of metal on my wrist as he slips a handcuff on me. I start to squirm under his weight and yell, "Don't hurt me…don't do this to me!"

Logan lifts the blindfold. "Mia, I'm not going to hurt you."

He nibbles my neck and I relax again. Sliding my arms further back, he handcuffs me to the bed. His tongue races down my neck and travels to my navel. His hands gently caress my breasts and I can feel my breath grow heavy as I become more excited. He continues further down and I willingly submit to him. My back arches and my wrists pull at the restraints. A mixture of pain and pleasure tears through me as his tongue plays with my clitoris. I pull back my legs and moan as I orgasm. Afterward, I groan as my wrist begins to throb.

"What is it Mia?" he asks.

"My wrist, Ben…you hurt my wrist." I twist and turn, the handcuffs bite deeper into my flesh.

Logan tears off the blindfold and looks upon me angrily. "Who is Ben?" he demands.

"Uh, no one," I say as a familiar feeling of panic overcomes me.

_What will he do to me if I say the wrong thing?_

His eyes shift up and he unlocks the handcuffs. He removes the bandage from my wrist, the scab has opened and it's a little bloody. Logan gently wipes it clean with the sheet.

"I'm so sorry," he says. "I had no idea you're injured."

"It's okay," I say.

"Did Ben do this to you?" he asks as he looks me steadily in the eye.

"I don't want to talk about it," I say, my voice is tight.

"Okay," he returns with a mellow voice. "Just, you know I'd never hurt you, right?"

I nod my head, even though I'm not so sure he wouldn't.

He gathers me in his arms and begins to nibble my ear lobe. Then, he rises on an elbow, and looks upon me, a grin spreading across his face as he visually devours my body. His erection thumps my leg. He rolls on top of me, penetrates me, and pumps with a roughness that strangely excites me. His torso brushes against mine, the hair on his chest tickling my breasts. Wrapping my arms around him, I throw back my head and moan as we come together.

Afterward, as we lie in each other's arms he turns to me with questioning eyes. He makes a start to speak, but stops, releasing only a sigh.

After some hesitation he finally says, "Mia, I'm sorry. I know you don't want to talk about Ben, but I understand why you're afraid. I'd never hurt you like that. I know I can be a little rough, but if you ever felt uncomfortable, I'd stop." His voice is soothing and sincere.

"Thank you," is all I can push out as I find myself at a loss for words.

"I mean that, Mia." He looks upon me with pitiful eyes and my heart begins to ache.

I wonder if I have a mental sickness, feeling excited over allowing myself to be helpless in the hands of a man I don't even know. But the unpredictable, rough sex we have leaves me burning with desire for more. Secretly, I long for kinkier sex and wonder if he feels the same, but I cannot bring myself to talk about it.

When we are together my mind always turns to Mitch and I can only imagine the hurt he would feel if he discovered I have been unfaithful. But it is becoming increasingly difficult to convince myself that Logan is nothing more than a toy. His gentle touch and words, and the way he looks upon me with genuine concern makes my heart sing. I scold myself for letting my emotions run out of control, and am determined to treat our relationship as the casual fling it is meant to be.

I glance at my watch and say, "My ride's coming soon."

I make a start out of bed, but Logan grabs me, pulling me close and whispers in my ear, "Mia, I don't want you to leave."

His hot breath, and the tickle from his lips barely brushing my ear, makes me tingle. I think of Mitch and pull away.

"Me either, but I have no choice. We have no choice." I cannot bring myself to look at him.

"Was it that bad?" he asks playfully.

"What do you mean?" I turn to him with questioning eyes.

"The whole handcuffs thing. You seemed to enjoy yourself." A mischievous smile spreads across his face.

"Oh I did," I say and fling my arms around his neck, unable to control my emotions. My head falls on his chest, and I relax at the sound of his heartbeat.

He places a hand on my ass and gently moves his thumb up and down. "We need to do this again."

"I agree," I say as I close my eyes and adjust the burden of my guilt somewhere in my soul. I purposefully turn my thoughts to Monday and giggle.

"What's so funny," he asks and pulls at my arm in a playful manner.

"I'm just having a hard time picturing you Monday, shouting orders and being a jerk. I'll try to take you serious."

"You have to Mia, or it could be very bad for me, and you." His voice is severe.

"I know. No one can know about us" I say, realizing how difficult it will be for me to put on a poker face.

As we dress, he promises me an even more exciting meeting next time. I try to draw it out of him, but he leaves me with nothing more than a seed of lust, germinating in my mind, making my imagination go wild. We hug one last time before parting, and I find myself overwhelmed with mixed emotions.

His warmth and kindness make me think of Mitch. I should be thrilled that two men seem to be in love with me, but I'm not, because now I have to make a choice. I've always had Ben decide things for me, it was easy. But then I realize it's too soon to be sure of either man. After all, when I leave for Japan, Logan will be left behind. And then there is always the possibility of Mitch finding someone else. The very thought of it makes me turn cold.

I return to my room and find Katie at her desk, furiously text messaging.

"Hey, what's up?" I say.

"Not much, just keeping in touch with some friends." She doesn't even look up.

Pangs of jealousy rise in me, but then I remember my laptop. I pull it out of my suitcase and fire it up. I open the browser and get a page not found error.

"Ugh, of course," I say with a sigh.

"Yeah, you can only get internet in the academic buildings, but hey, if you tell me what you did this evening I'll let you tether my phone."

"Okay, but I don't know why, it's not all that exciting." I purposefully look away from her.

Katie busts out laughing, "Oh I guess you were attacked by a vampire then, huh?"

My eyes grow wide. "Huh?"

"I see that bite mark on your neck." She traces an index finger across her own throat.

I feel around my neck, hitting a tender spot. All I can mutter is a weak "Oh."

"Well?" she says as she dangles her phone in front of me. Mischief lurks in every corner of her face.

"Okay, I met with someone, if you must know," I say with an air, then stick out my hand for the phone.

"Yeah, and what did you do?" She moves the phone from my reach.

"We made wild love," I say, trying to hold back a giggle.

"Wow, you finally got some Mia, I'm so proud of you." She springs from her desk and begins to fiddle with my laptop as she sets-up the wireless connection. "So how was it?"

"Well, at first it was a little scary-"

"Scary? How?" her eyes grow wide.

"Well..."- I shift uncomfortably -"He insisted on blindfolding me."

"And that scares you how?" - She waves her hand as if I am ridiculous – "Oh never mind, go on."

"Well, he then handcuffed me to the bed and went down on me." I blush, never having shared details of my intimate life with anyone.

"Oh my God, you're so frigging lucky. I love that. Oh…you know what?" She raises her hand to her mouth and begins to bite her finger."

"What?" I'm in awe of her reaction.

"Hearing that almost makes me want to go straight."

"Oh my God, are you making fun of me?" I feel my face wrinkle.

"No, well, yes, only because you're so shy. Seriously, Mia we all do it."

She places her phone next to my laptop and tells me to go ahead and surf the net.

I bring up my email account and discover Mitch has written me several times. My heart quickens when I click the first envelope.

'Mia,

I hope all is well and you're surviving training. Things are quiet at home without you. I know you must be busy, but Skype or write when you have a chance. I miss you already.

Mitch.'

I click on the second envelope.

'Mia,

It's been two weeks since I last embraced you. My thoughts are consumed with you, your smile, your smell, and the fact that you love me. I'm hopeful that your feelings are still just as strong for me. On the bright side, I have buried myself in work and the case is going well. I plan to take a break after it's settled, and I imagine all my free time with you.

I know you must be very busy, but I wish you'd drop me a note. I understand Internet connectivity is limited on the base, but it'd be awfully nice to hear from you.

Love,

Mitch'

With eyes shut tight, and leaning my head against my hand I imagine Mitch's face when he sees me again. It radiates with love and excitement. Then he runs toward me and me to him. I fall into his arms, which he wraps around me in a warm embrace. I jerk back to reality, blink away the tears in my eyes and respond to his email.

'Dear Mitch,

Internet is limited, and not even allowed during the first weeks of training. Fortunately, my roommate lent me her phone to connect my laptop to the net. Things would be easier if I had a cell phone, but the thought never occurred to me until recently.

Everything is rolling along at a slow, yet comfortable pace. The training was terrible at first, but getting easier.

I hope all is quiet for you – no trouble.

Anyway, I would love to see you before leaving for Japan. I will write to you as often as I can. Would love to Skype, but not sure I can.

Love,

Mia

p.s. I'm glad the case is going well.'

I hit the send button then contemplate my response. I wanted to ask about Ben and am surprised that Mitch didn't update me on his status. In my heart I know Ben is an evil man, but despite what he did to me, I don't want to see him hurt.

I shutdown the computer and return Katie her phone.

"Everything okay?" she asks.

"Yeah, just a little sad, I really do miss Mitch," I say with a sniffle.

"You mean, Mitch from back home, the man who has your heart?" Her response is warm and sincere, giving me a change in heart in trusting her.

"That's the one, and even though I've been unfaithful I still love him. I…I can't be like you Katie. I truly admire your love them and leave 'em attitude, and I wish I could be like that, but I can't."

"Oh I see you can't separate lust from love," she says matter-of-factly.

"Sure I can. I love Mitch and I just don't want to hurt him." My voice seems pleading and I'm angry with myself for trying to convince her.

"Or maybe you're developing feelings for this other guy and that's what you're afraid of?"

I feel my face warm as anger rises inside of me. "Look, Katie, haven't you ever loved someone and wanted to stay faithful to that person? I don't know if I could keep such a secret from Mitch. Secrets are bad."

"Stop sounding like a whiny kid, Mia. You must have been very sheltered or very abused as a kid. Sure, secrets can be bad, but some are necessary." She stares at me as if I'm a child lost in the adult world.

After several seconds of silence she exhales, clasps her hands together and leans her elbows on her knees.

"Mia let me ask you this…and please be honest."

I nod my head.

"Let's say Mitch went out, picked-up with a chick and fucked her, would you want to know about it?"

"I…I think I would," I say.

She shakes her head and says, "Even if you loved him and knew that he loved you? Would you really want to know Mia? You're not even with each other. No normal man can go without sex for months. It'd be relief sex, nothing more. Would you want to know?"

My eyes swell with tears and I blink them away. "I suppose you're right Katie."

She cracks a smile and says, "Of course I'm right. I'm well practiced in the art of love." She stands, walks a complete circle while waving her arms like a fairy, and then collapses on her bed in a fit of laughter.

I laugh too and then we discuss our plans for tomorrow, which involve me purchasing my own cell phone.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Early next week I actually look forward to being drilled by Logan. When no one is looking he asks that we meet again Saturday. I want to refuse, but agree. Even though my heart belongs to Mitch, my thoughts are consumed with Logan. The way he made love to me, leaving me burning for more, and his promise that our next encounter would be even more erotic than the last, plays in my mind.

As I stretch out on my bed, my phone jangles to life. "Hello?"

"Hey Mia, how's it going?" says Mitch in an up-beat tone.

"Things are going well. I'm so glad you called. I've missed you so much." My voice quivers and my eyes brim with tears. Determined to keep my emotions in check, I steady my voice and continue, "How's your case coming along?"

"It's coming along great. In fact, I hope to have it wrapped-up in a few days." A hint of slyness edges his voice.

"That's terrific," I say, wondering what he's up to. But no matter how hard I try to focus, my mind wanders back to Logan. The way he caressed with me with his warm, silky tongue. How it slivered down my body like a snake, and the deep-throated moans he emitted as he made love to me.

"Well, do you remember me telling you I plan on taking a break afterward?"

"Yes," I say absently.

"Well, I'm coming down next weekend to spend some time with you."

I shoot upright in my bed and gasp as if someone had dashed cold water on me.

"Mia, everything okay?" he asks, the excitement having left his voice.

"Uh, yeah-"

"What, you don't have time for me now," he teases. "Got a boyfriend?" He laughs.

I laugh too, despite the panic that rushes over me.

"I've been thinking a lot about it Mia, and I want to take you to Ruth Chris steakhouse, and then spend the evening learning more about you, and you me."

My eyes light up. "Ruth Chris," I say.

"Yes, only the best for my girl."

"Oh and where are you staying?"

"The Renaissance Hotel."

"Oh, nice, too bad I can't stay with you," I say gloomily.

"You may not be able to stay with me, but you can certainly visit with me." He makes emphasis on the word visit.

"Visit is nice, and when you say visit do you mean-"

"Yes, Mia, I want to make wild passionate love to you."

My heart leaps at the thought. I imagine us soaking in a whirlpool tub and drinking champagne. Then, he lifts me out of the tub and places me on top satin sheets.

"Mia, are you listening to me?"

"Uh, sorry," I say. "I can't wait 'til you get here. I'm already day dreaming about it."

"That's my girl. I love you."

"Me too," I say dreamily.

"I have really missed you, Mia," his says with a tremble in his voice.

My heart drops and the guilt that floats just beneath the surface of my soul bubbles up. I stifle my sobs and say, "Me too Mitch. I…I wish I had just stayed with you and never joined the military."

"You did the right thing," he says with conviction. "The fact that we are apart and still love each other is a good thing, Mia. It means we have a chance."

Silence creeps in and it's all I can do not to burst out crying and confess my infidelity.

"Well, it's late. Good night, Mia." His voice is smooth and loving.

"Good night," I return.

I hold back the tears that threaten to engulf me and remind myself that my relationship with Logan is based on nothing more than lust. My heart belongs to Mitch and I am certain he is the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. Still, both men expect to spend the weekend with me, and I have no idea how I am going to get myself out of this mess. Pacing the room, I eye the door. I can barely wait for Katie to return and when she does I jump toward her, wild eyed and panicked.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she asks as she takes a step back.

"Damn, Katie, I don't know what to do." I wring my hands and pop my knuckles.

"Geez, Mia, you kill somebody?"

"This is serious. I have a date planned with my man here, but Mitch called to tell me he's coming this weekend to be with me."

She bursts with laughter. "Oh the trouble you've gotten your self into."

"This isn't funny. This would've never happened if you hadn't convinced me it's okay to just fuck around with total disregard for other people's feelings." I'm fuming.

"Hey, don't blame me. If I told ya to jump off a bridge would you do it?" Her hands gesticulate wildly.

"Obviously I would!" I yell.

"Look, Mia, I'm sorry. Let's figure this out. Who'd you rather be with?" She exhales, lowers her hands and sits on her bed.

"Well, Mitch, I guess." My anger for Katie turns on me. Why do I need someone to help me make decisions? I'm so pathetic.

"You guess?"

"Well, yeah, he's a terrific guy."

"So why the hesitation?"

"Well, my man here is, well, exciting, if not a little unpredictable. He makes my adrenaline flow."

"Ok, so Mitch is a dud in bed?"

"No, we've made love and it's terrific, but it was under the wrong circumstances."

"Wrong?" she asks with an inquisitive eye.

I raise my hands to my head; push my fingers through my hair and begin to pace. "I…I don't want to get into it. It's just the timing was all wrong…and he was so gentle, which was nice."

"But he isn't the animal you're looking for?" A smile plays at the corners of her mouth.

"I guess. God I feel so damn ashamed of myself. I'm a freak. I just can't be happy. What's wrong with me?" My fists are so tight that my knuckles feel like they are going to break through the skin.

"Nothing's wrong with you Mia, you just need to let Mitch know what you like and I'm sure he'll try to make you happy."

"I worry I'll scare him off, and I feel kind of creepy telling him what I like. I just want him to…well… know."

"Stop being shy Mia, just tell him."

"I suppose you're right," I say. I pull at my cuticles, making my fingers bleed.

"So now you need to break the date with mystery man."

I nod my head.

"Simple, tell him you can't meet. That you owe me lunch and promised it Saturday, and shopping on Sunday."

"Okay, I just hope he buys it."

A mischievous smile flashes across her face. "By the way, you do owe me lunch. It's my charge for all the therapy sessions."

The next day I find Logan outside my dormitory, waiting for me. He motions me to follow him to a concealed spot, behind a hedge.

"Hey Mia, I hope you're not taking it personal when I ride ya bit during training." He smiles, and loosely drapes my hands in his.

"No, I understand," I say softly.

"You can't look me in the eye, what's up?" He squeezes my hands.

"I…I can't meet with you this weekend. I'm sorry." I hang my head, feeling irritated he can read my emotions.

"Why not?" He asks.

"Well, I made other plans I forgot about." I force myself to make eye contact.

"Oh, what kind of plans?" he says, his voice grating with anger.

"With Katie, I owe her lunch and some shopping."

Logan guffaws and says, "That is the lamest excuse I've ever heard. The lunch bit I could've believed, but shopping? Where would you go shopping with a big dike like her?"

"Look, Katie is a nice person and I wish you'd stop talking smack about her." I wrench my hands free from his grip.

He grabs me by the shoulders and talks to me in his drill sergeant voice. "Are you sure this doesn't have something to do with your other boyfriend?"

My eyes grow owl eyed and introspective. "I'm sorry Logan. I…shouldn't lie to you, it's not fair. Fact is, I do have a boyfriend and I never intended to get emotionally involved with you." Despite my best efforts, I begin to sob.

"So, I get it, I'm your fuck buddy, right!" His face turns red, and a small vein throbs in the middle of his forehead. His eyes sparkle in the most beautiful way, and my heart starts to feel as if it's being crushed in a vice.

"I'm sorry I've given you the wrong impression…but be realistic, you're going to ship out in a few weeks, and I'll probably never see you again." I reach out to him, but he releases my shoulders and storms away.

Later that evening at the dining hall I spy Logan watching me. When I leave he follows and tells me to meet him by the back door of the academic building. I give him some distance, and find myself struggling to keep up. When I reach the door he grabs me, and kisses me with such force that I feel like my mouth is going to break.

I push away. "You're hurting me," I protest.

"I want you so bad," he responds, and then slaps me hard on the ass. "You've been a bad girl, Mia."

In an instant I understand that our relationship has evolved from false fronts to raw carnal desires. At first I brim with anger. He has lost all respect for me, but then I realize I can expect nothing more since I have told him he is only a toy.

He pulls me close with crushing force. I place my hands on either side of his face and plant my lips on his. I finally break for air, excited and out of breath. He grabs my arm and yanks me into the building.

"Are we allowed in here?" I ask.

"The locks broke," he responds coldly.

The halls are shadowy and our rushed footsteps echo through the building as he drags me along like a struggling child. We enter a classroom, and Logan releases me. The remaining light of day seeps through the blinds, creating a romantic atmosphere, but I'm not so sure that's what he has planned. Without a word he reaches behind a desk and pulls out a duffle bag. I cringe as he unzips it. He seems so angry, I wonder if it's a gun or maybe a knife.

His eyes fall upon me, glittering with anger, yet displaying a hint of hurt. There is a jangling and a snap as he pulls out the all too familiar handcuffs, and a small whip.

I swallow hard and say, "Logan, you're angry with me."

He approaches me, wrestles my hands behind my back and clamps the silvery cool handcuffs around my wrists. Fear percolates through every cell in my body, but subsides when he nibbles my earlobe. I throw my head back as he continues down my neck, and become more excited as his warm breath rolls over me.

"Talk to me Logan," I gasp.

He twirls me around, unloosens my pants and pulls them below my knees. I writhe in the handcuffs as he bends me over a desk. The hard surface feels cool against my flushed cheek. Then I hear him unzip his pants. The sound of a stick cutting air is followed by a shooting pain in my buttocks and I cry out from the sting of the whip. He penetrates me and the pain turns into pleasure. Then again he cracks me with the whip, followed by a vicious thrust. Pain…pleasure… pain… pleasure.

When he finishes he calmly removes the handcuffs and turns me to face him. I explore every corner of his face, looking for a sign of forgiveness. He pushes his fingers through my hair, smiles and then kisses me gently on the cheek.

"Talk to me Logan," I implore and reach up, clasping his face between my palms.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" he asks.

I am ashamed to admit it, but squeeze out a "Yes."

"Why're you so embarrassed then?" His mouth twists into a coy half-smile.

I shake my head, unable to give an explanation.

"We have something good here, Mia, don't you agree?"

I relax as he strokes my hair, and all worries disappear. "I do enjoy our time together," I say.

"I wanted to save this for the weekend…I wanted to make it more special for you Mia. I have candles, whip cream…more toys…are you sure we can't meet?" His hands slide down my sides and take hold of my hips.

I imagine us together in a dimly lit hotel room, but visions of Mitch intrude and I begin to sob.

"Oh Logan, I'm so sorry. I'm meeting someone…my boyfriend…I may not see him again for months."

"I don't know why you'd want to see him, seems to me like he abuses you." He moves in closer and rubs his pelvis on me as if trying to change my mind.

"Mitch has never abused me," I Counter.

Logan releases his hold on me and steps back. "Who's Mitch? How many boyfriends do you have?"

"Just one," I say, feeling offended.

"So who's Ben?" he asks.

"Ben's an ex-boyfriend," I blurt. "I told you, I don't want to talk about it."

"No, someone named Ben has been in town asking airmen about you." His eyebrows raise, and he crosses his arms.

I feel the blood drain from my face and I'm thankful it's masked by the shadows that play through the room.

"Mia, what's wrong?" His voice is concerned.

"Nothing," I lie. "I guess we need to get going, it's getting late." I turn to walk away, but Logan grabs my arm and pulls me into his chest. His breath tickles my ear as he whispers to me. "Mia, what is it?"

"He's just an ex-boyfriend I broke-up with, and he can't seem to let go, that's all," I say with a quiver in my voice. My mind is a scattered mess as I find myself mixed with feelings of relief that Ben is okay, but fear of what he may do to me.

"Mia, just tell me. I'll need to know in case something happens to you." His voice is more serious than ever.

"I pull away from him and look up into his eyes, no longer able to read his emotions in the fading light. "What makes you think something will happen?" I ask.

"You're scared; I can tell you're scared. You've gotta stay on base." He sighs heavily, and continues. "Why can't you just stay with me? How long have you known this Mitch guy anyway?"

He stands tall and I move forward, placing my ear on his chest, listening to his heart pound like a furious fist.

"Well, for several years," I lie.

"What does he do for a living?" His voice is soft. He traces a finger down my side.

"He's an attorney," I say proudly.

"Oh, and instead of marrying you, he lets you join the military?" He grabs my shoulders and pushes back.

"Well, I…I-"

"Yeah, you're either bullshitting yourself that this high and mighty guy wants you, or you're lying again!"

"Lying again? What the fuck is that supposed to mean? And I'm not bullshitting myself!" My heart beats into the tips of my fingers.

"Mia, look, I care about you, and want you to be honest with me." His blustering voice takes a more gentle tone when he says, "You like being with me. I know it. I can feel it. We should be together"

I rub at the tears that roll down my cheeks and say, "Logan, I do like you…I'm just so confused. I'd be lying to you if I said I didn't love Mitch."

"How long have ya known him Mia," he demands.

"Not that long," I admit.

He snickers and says, "You've known me longer, haven't you? I guess you're escaping reality by imaging something with Mitch. I bet if ya got to know him better, you'd realize I'm the man for you"

"The fact is I don't know either one of you very well," I retort. "No one is my man yet. I'm going to take things slow. I need to figure out what's best for me." I reach up and press my forehead with the palms of my hands. This wasn't supposed to happen. I was going to stay aloof and play around. Sharing my feelings is not part of the plan.

"But for now, it's Mitch, right?" he asks glumly.

"Yes, I'm sorry Logan."

I reach to his face, but he steps away. He begins to pace, and tips his head as he rests a curled index finger on his lip. I am as still as an animal in headlights, desperately trying to read his expression, which is completely overshadowed by darkness. He returns to me and embraces me, making my heart pang with guilt.

"Okay, I can't make you chose me. And you're right; we haven't known each other long. Do you want to continue with me?" he asks as he gives me a gentle squeeze.

I gulp hard, wanting to say no, but instead say, "Yes."

"Then promise me you'll stay on base." He begins to stroke my hair.

"I can't, I'm meeting Mitch…I may not see him again for a while."

"Promise me you'll stay on base. Warn him to stay way," he commands.

"Okay, you're right," I say.

Later that evening I lie awake in bed, brimming over with anger. How dare Logan tell me what I can and cannot do. Why must all men try to control me? Then it occurs to me that I am to blame for my troubles. By lying just to get him off my back, I will only makes things worse.

I open my phone and text Logan, 'I don't want to lie to you. I plan on leaving the base to meet Mitch.'

Seconds later my phone bleeps, 'Don't be stupid Mia. Just stay on base.'

My heart is pounding hard, and I furiously type, 'You're not my boyfriend Logan. I'll only stay if Mitch doesn't want to meet.'

I wait for a response, but there is none.

The next morning Logan rides me hard during training. His anger is so transparent that the other flight members fall silent and watch with wondering eyes.

Before lunch Katie confronts me about Logan. "He's the man you've been banging, isn't he?" she demands.

I can feel my face flush as I say, "It's really none of your damn business who it is!"

"Yeah, Mia, fucking your commander is not such a god idea. Just be careful. He has the power to make your time here a living hell."

I storm off vowing to never again share my secrets with anyone.

Logan continues to harass me during training and ignores me off hours. Although I burn with desire for him, I remind myself that I promised not to get involved in a new relationship. I have already broken the rules with Mitch, and now I am stringing along two men.

I sigh heavily and text Logan, 'Look, I'm sorry you're angry with me, but we're not a couple. I enjoy my time with you, but you needn't concern yourself with what I do outside our encounters.'

He doesn't respond.

When Friday comes I call Mitch with a heavy heart and tell him that we should not meet.

"Why not, Mia?" he asks hurt.

"Because it's been brought to my attention that Ben has been here looking for me."

Silence greets me and I begin to gnaw the inside of mouth.

"Mitch, what's going on?" I finally ask.

"Well, Mia, I didn't want to upset you, but Ben has been back at the office and threatened me to stay away from you. Kevin had to intervene and call the police to have him removed…He also said he was going to get you back."

"And you were planning on telling me when?" I ask with a strident voice.

"I wasn't, Mia. I didn't want to scare you. Besides that a while ago…I thought, no hoped, that maybe he had moved on. I guess we should not see each other tomorrow. It's too dangerous." He sighs heavily.

"No, no, I refuse to let him control my life Mitch. I've been looking forward to being with you, and he's not going to stop me."

"You said we shouldn't meet. What's going on Mia?"

"I…I know it's a bad idea and I don't want him to hurt you, but I've been looking forward to seeing you…Ugh…this is horrible."

"Mia, don't worry about me. I can take care of myself. It's you I worry about. I want to see you so bad…smell your skin, kiss you-"

"Then we're meeting. If I see him I'm simply going to tell him that we're over, and if he continues I'll get a restraining order."

"Wow, you've certainly changed. You're not the meek Mia I dropped off weeks ago." His voice is back to light and airy.

"I guess this officer boot camp thing has toughened me up," I say with certainty.

"Ok, Mia, I'll be there for you, but there's no telling what he may do."

"Whatever happened with the knife wound anyway?" I ask.

"He' still recovering, but I guess his anger keeps him going. They never found the guy who did it," he says.

"But he still blames you?"

"He does, but there's no proof of it."

"Okay, it's just about lights out. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay, meet me just outside the base at noon. I love you." He makes a kissing sound.

"Me too," I say and hang up.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

The next day I dress in my sexiest casual clothes, grab my purse and head out the dormitory. My excitement dies on my lips at the sight of Logan as he races toward me, ignoring the people around us.

"You're going off base?" he says, his eyes brimming with anger.

"I'm sorry," I say as I look around at curious passersby. I brush past him, quickening my pace, and after several minutes I look back and see him standing, watching and thinking.

I breathe a sigh of relief when I see Mitch's car. I jump into the passenger's seat and wrap my arms around his neck. I writhe in his hold in a frenzy of welcome, and we begin to kiss passionately. He breaks away, moving his lips down my neck, gentling nibbling as he repeats my name over and over again.

"God, I missed you," I say, and inhale him, the smell of his cologne making me tingle.

"Our weeks apart have only made me realize just how much I love you Mia," he says as holds me back and looks at me with glistening eyes. "Mia, do you feel the same?"

"Yes, I do," I say, knowing that my heart yearns for him, but my flesh still desires Logan.

We drive into town and after some sightseeing stop to eat at a deli. We sit comfortably at a table and take small bites of our sandwiches as we discuss what has been happening in our lives since we parted. Then I hear a familiar voice, and become paralyzed with fear. I'm afraid to look up, but force my eyes forward and see Logan a few tables away. He is leaning across the table, holding the hand of a bleach blond woman. She giggles when he begins to curl her hair around his finger. She crosses her legs, her short skirt creeping up, revealing the curvature of her thigh. She wiggles her foot like a playful kitten as Logan whispers to her and caresses her hand.

I fill with rage and feel my face flush.

"Everything okay, Mia?" asks Mitch. He turns to look over his shoulder.

"I'm fine…I was just hoping not to see anyone I know."

"Oh, you know them?"

"I know the man, he's my flight commander. He's a real asshole."

"I'm sorry," he says as he reaches across the table, grabs my hand and gives it a warm squeeze. "Do you want to leave?"

"No, it's no big deal," I say, and then take a bite of my sandwich. My food seems to get stuck in my throat when I swallow. I excuse myself to go to the restroom.

I stand in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at my strange reflection, recognizing my image, but not understanding the person I have become. I tell myself to calm down, finish my lunch and leave. I take a deep breath and push through the door with an angry thrust. A strong hand grabs my arm. I gasp and turn to see Logan, a giant smirk spread across his face.

"Hey, Mia fancy seeing you here." He says sarcastically.

"Yeah, fancy my ass. You're following me!" I pull away from him, which seems to amuse him.

"Now why would I want my date to see you?"

"Date, huh? She looks like a hooker."

"Now don't say that about Candy-"

"Candy – ha!" I squeeze my fists tight, and it's all I can do not to punch him in the face.

"Why're you so jealous anyway? You said we we're only fuck buddies…I had this great day planned for you and me, but now I guess it's me and Candy."

My throat tightens as I fill with anger for taking the bait. "You're right, Logan. I'm sorry. We aren't an item, and I have no right to be angry, just like you have no right to tell me what I can and cannot do. I just think it's a bit petty of you to go to so much trouble to rub it in my face."

His eyes gleam with delight as he tilts his head and says, "I'm not rubbing it in your face. I happen to like this place. I eat here often."

He reaches up and brushes a finger under my chin. I gently push his hand away, smile and say, "Okay, you have fun. I just hope your dick doesn't drop off."

I can hear him chuckle as I walk back to my table. I sit and listen to Mitch talk about his case, and how much his has missed me, all the while stewing over Logan. When Logan returns he continues to flirt with the blond and caress her the way he caressed me. It's more than I can stand.

"I've an idea," I blurt. "Let's go to Blount Park! I hear it has the most fabulous stone bride. Ya know the kind that reminds you of old Europe."

"Ok," says Mitch, his voice brittle with suspicion. "You've certainly perked-up."

He grabs his jacket from the back of his chair and we head out the door. It's like hell suppressing my urge to look back at Logan. I sigh heavily as I climb into the car. I stare at Mitch's profile, clearing my mind of everything else around me.

"I'm so glad you won your case," I say, continuing the conversation from the Deli, but then go straight to what I really want to know. "What were you like in high school?" I picture a handsome young man, perhaps a little stringy looking, but smart and athletic.

Mitch chuckles and says, "I was a bit of a nerd I guess."

"No way!" I say.

"Yeah, my arms and legs always seemed too long, and I was constantly tripping over my own feet."

"So no girlfriend, huh" I stroke his arm playfully.

He turns his eyes from the road and looks upon me with affection only one truly in love could show. "No."

"So when did you transform?" I ask.

"Well, actually my last year of high school I signed up for Tae Kwon Do and was able to get past my clumsiness. I liked the way my body was changing, so I started working out at the high school gym."

"Tae Kwon Do, huh?" I imagine him in a starch white martial arts uniform, landing a sidekick to Logan's face.

"Yeah, I made it to a fourth Dan then quit."

"Why?"

"Well, I continued through College and part of law school, but it got to be too much."

"That's too bad. So when did you get your first girl friend?" I wiggle in my seat and watch him closely.

"So now we get to what you want to know. Ha! I had a pretty serious relationship my first year of college…but she left me for someone else."

"Really, why?" His face twists in pain and I stammer, "I'm sorry…I guess I'm thinking, why would someone dump you. It came out all wrong." I squeeze his hand.

"Well apparently she was two-timing, and the other guy won," he says with a sigh of defeat.

I barely eek out an "Oh." I gulp hard and look out the window, unable to face him.

The sky is a glorious blue and the clouds like cotton puffs, turning and twisting into imaginative shapes. We park, and when I hop out of the car a nip in the air fills my lungs with delightful bliss. I inhale deeply and run to Mitch, wrapping my arms around his waist.

He places an arm over my shoulders and I look up to meet his gaze. His eyes shine like evening stars and his pearly white teeth show under the curl of his lip. My heart throbs with delight and I plant my lips on his. We kiss passionately and he slowly moves his hands down my sides, barely brushing my breasts. I tingle under his gentle, meaningful touch. His desire is palpable and any doubts I had about him, us, begins to melt.

We break our embrace and Mitch runs along a grassy trail, pulling me by the hand. I giggle like a playful child until I am out of breath. I stop and Mitch sweeps his arms under me, lifting me off my feet. He falls back on a bench and stares at me with a child like wonder.

"I feel good about us, Mia," He says. "I love you so much."

He cups a hand behind my head, moves in close and kisses me. His satiny tongue plays with mine and I close my eyes, but panic rushes over me and I break free from our impassioned embrace.

"Mitch, I'm just so worried that we'll never be," I finally confess, unable to hold back my feelings of fear and guilt

"What do you mean?" he asks in a hushed voice.

"Just, Ben will never go away, and then I made the mistake of joining the air force." I exhale angrily. _Why must I ruin the moment?_ Everything was so perfect until I let my mind wander. I'm convinced that I cannot allow myself to be happy.

"Mia, I've been thinking about the whole Ben thing and I've made a decision."

My eyes search his and I urge him to continue.

"I'm licensed to practice law in California, and I'm going to move back there. Will you join me? There are air forces bases there. Maybe you can request a transfer-"

"Yes, yes!" I scream. "That's an excellent idea."

He smiles delightedly and says, "Wow, I'm glad you like the idea. That will definitely take care of Ben. We'll just have to be careful to keep our whereabouts secret."

"He's a detective, though...so probably not for long." I begin to crack my knuckles and continue, "But maybe, he'll eventually find someone else and give up."

"I hope so. God I hope so Mia." He takes my hand and begins to stroke it.

I do a quick shake of the head, which sets Mitch off laughing. "What's that? It's like you just tasted something bad."

I giggle and say, "I'm just shaking bad thoughts from my head, that's all. I'm so glad you're so smart. I know you'll make everything perfect." I take a moment to stare into his large, beautiful eyes, and imagine that his pupils have taken the shape of hearts. And then I kiss him.

"I love you, Mia," he says.

"Me too," I say, and I feel it.

His hands race beneath my buttocks and he pushes me up. He stands and begins to shake out his legs.

"You're getting heavy there, my legs were falling asleep."

We giggle, and then I loosely grab his hands and say, "Mitch, let's leave. Let's go to your hotel. I want you so bad."

He points behind me and I look over my shoulder and see an old stone bridge.

"Don't you want to take a romantic stroll on that bridge first?"

"Not really," I say, feeling disappointed that he didn't ravage me on the spot.

"C'mon, it'll be fun. It's all part of the foreplay, right?" His smile twists higher on one side and he winks his eye.

"I suppose," I say somewhat annoyed. But he holds me close and begins to tickle my ear with the tip of his tongue. I imagine we are secret lovers back in the time of Shakespeare. As we approach the bridge, its arcs appear to lead to endless tunnels, the shinny waters reflecting their ominous shadows, like the entrance to Hades, and I shudder. Then the lake begins to ripple, startling me, but it's only a swan, lazily cruising along, occasionally poking its head under the plate like surface, as if chasing a fish. I giggle in nervous relief, and Mitch calls me silly as he draws me in closer and we begin to cross the bridge.

The bridge leads to a stone structure shaped like a house, its roof pointing like an arrow toward heaven. We pass through the small entryway. Mitch slams me against the wall and presses my hands hard against the cold, bumpy stones. He kisses my neck and works down to my breasts. He releases a hand and pulls at the buttons of my blouse. I close my eyes tight and savor the moment. I reach into his pants, but he pulls away, slamming a fist into the wall behind me.

"I'm sorry, Mia...I didn't mean to be so rough. You must think the worst-"

"Shut-up and make love to me," I demand. "I want to be taken by you. Take me!"

And like a hungry animal, finally free of its shackles, he tears open my blouse, roughly fondles my breasts and then begins to gently suck on them. I feel my chest heave as my excitement leaves me breathless. I reach into his pants and fondle his erection. Mitch begins to reach for my pants and just as he grabs the button I hear a crack and a moan.

"You son of a bitch!"

I open my eyes and see Mitch sprawled on the ground, Ben standing over him, fists clinched. Crimson streams trickle around Mitch's fingers as he cradles his nose. Shock paralyzes me and I try to scream, but cannot find my voice. Just as I release my trapped breath, a strong hand grabs my arm and jerks me forward. Another hand clamps my throat. I inhale, but air does not enter my lungs. My eyes throb and feel as if they are going to pop out of my head. Ben's charcoal eyes fall upon me and glaze over like a madman's.

"Mitch," I manage to croak.

"You bitch! This is what you do to me...you run off with this fucker who tried to kill me. Were you in on it, Mia!"

He jerks me, and I flop like a rag doll. I desperately cling to the ground with my tippy-toes, trying to relieve the weight of my body from my neck. He repeats the question, his booming voice making my ears throb. I try to shake my head no.

"Lying bitch, you're going with me to the police and telling them Mia. It's the right thing to you. It's the least you can do after all the time we've had together. I won't press charges against you, just him," he says half-raging, half-pleading.

He relaxes his grip and I squeeze out, "Ben, I didn't try to kill you, and neither did Mitch. You…you need help." I cringe as the words escape my mouth, floating on the air and irretrievable.

"You're going to regret this Mia!" His scowl morphs into an evil grin, and he goes on with a half-taunting laugh. "I have something your little friend here might be interested in…you whore!" He release me, slips his hand into his pocket and starts to pull it out when Mitch springs to his feet and lands a punch to the side of his head, sending Ben stumbling back.

Ben regains his balance, and like a bear in a rage, begins to swat at Mitch. Mitch dodges his blows like a skilled ninja and lands a side kick to Ben's ribs, making him double over, and gasp for air. Mitch's eyes burn with an anger I have never seen before. It's as if he has turned from Dr. Jekyll to Mr. Hyde, and then I remember those very same traits in Ben. For one brief moment I wonder if I have made a ghastly mistake. Have I found another abusive man, who will turn on me and try to control me?

I rub at my neck, sputter as I catch my breath and say, "Please, you'll kill him Mitch, stop."

Mitch's gaze falls on me, and in that brief moment, Ben regains his composure and swings, but Mitch dodges and shoves him back. Ben's muscle packed body slams against me, his elbow smacking me in the head. My vision goes blurry and I tumble over the rail, and plunge into the heart stopping cold water below.

I gasp for air as my body struggles under the shock of the cold. I peer up at the battling men and hear a thud as Mitch lands one final blow that knocks Ben out.

My eyes dart around for the nearest point to shore when a glimmer of light catches my eye. Blinking several times to focus, I make out a plastic, square object floating close to me. I stretch toward it, hitting its hard surface with the tips of my fingers, causing it to sink. Angry over my clumsiness, I splash through the water for it, but my arms are numb, refusing to work. I struggle to swim, but can't.

"Help me, Mitch!" I yell out as he looks down at me, dumbfounded.

_Why isn't he helping me?_

I manage to get my feet to kick. An arm wraps around my upper body, and I struggle to break free.

"Its okay, Mia," says Logan, "I'll get ya outta here."

He drags me ashore and hovers over me, water dripping from his face into mine. I stare up at him, blinking, and image a halo above his head. I reach up to touch him, thinking he is an angel. His soft eyes express pain, mixed with relief.

"What-" I begin, confused when passersby stop and to ask if I'm okay.

"She's fine, I'll take care of her," says Logan.

He lifts me in his arms and carries me away. I look back over his shoulder for Mitch and through blurry vision see him talking with security personnel. Ben is sitting on the ground handcuffed, his head hanging low.

"What happened?" I ask as Logan sets me into the back of his SUV.

"Mia, what's going on…oh…never mind…you're hurt….you're cold." He disrobes me, leaving only my undergarments, and wraps a blanket around my trembling body.

"Logan, what are you doing here?" I whisper and reach out to him, but he backs away.

"Ha! No thank you?" he says sarcastically as he removes his soaking shirt, revealing his slim, muscular chest, and six-pack abs.

"I'm sorry…I just wasn't expecting to see you. I thought-"

"You thought I was doing to Candy what I wanted to do to you?" he retorts.

I rest back on my elbows and say, "Look, thanks for rescuing me. The water was so cold, I would've drowned."

"No you wouldn't. I went in for you because you took a blow to the head." He turns sad eyes upon me, and just as quickly looks away.

I reach up and touch around my head until I find a tender spot just to the right of my temple. I wince and moan.

"I don't have a change of clothes, Mia, so I need to get back to base. You need to go to the hospital."

"I agree," says Mitch as he comes from behind and extends his hand. Logan hesitates before grabbing it and giving a stern shake. "Thank you for saving my girl here."

"No problem," says Logan with a smirk.

"What's so funny?" asks Mitch, the smile having left his face.

"Just wondering why you didn't jump in after her, that's all." He twists water from his shirt, not once looking up.

"Just who are you anyway?" asks Mitch, and then his expression changes to one of recognition. "Oh, you're the flight commander. You were in the deli."

"That's right," he says looking up, and then motions me to get out of the SUV.

"So are you following us?" demands Mitch.

"Nope, I visit this park every Saturday same time, and it's a good thing I was here." He slams the tailgate of his SUV. "Mia, you can return this blanket to me Monday. Now go to the hospital."

Mitch wraps a possessive arm around me and walks me to his car. He wrings my sopping clothes, and then throws them in the back. We sit for several minutes in silence, and after we watch Logan drive away he turns to me and asks, "You've got something going on with that guy?"

"No," I say, remembering what Katie had told me. My heart belongs to Mitch and that's all that matters.

He looks at me suspiciously and says, "Okay, I trust you Mia."

I manage a weak smile. "So why didn't you jump in after me?"

He reaches over and strokes my wet hair. "Mia, I'm sorry, I can't swim."

"Really? And you're from California?" I ask, puzzled.

"Mia, I'm sorry. Everything happened so fast. My priority was to protect you from Ben." His voice is loud, but controlled.

I shake my head as if clearing my thoughts, reach over, grab Mitch's hand, and say, "You're right, I'm sorry. Thank you…I thought he was going to choke me to death."

He smiles and meets my gaze for a brief moment. "I decided not to press charges against Ben for what happened. I could've, but I knew you wouldn't want me to."

"Yeah, sorry" I say with a big gulp, "It'd look bad with the military. I can't get into scuffles like this now, but Mitch, if I weren't in the military I'd want you to press charges. Really, I want you to know that."

"I believe ya, Mia, you're starting to realize that he just isn't going away."

I raise my hand and touch his swelling nose. "That looks pretty bad; we should probably go to the hospital."

He brushes away my hand, flashes a vacuous smile and says, "It's not as bad as it looks." - And as I open my mouth to protest he continues – "Really, it's not broken, he didn't catch me at a good angle."

I begin to sob, the strain of the day draining from my eyes. My heart aches with deception and I know Mitch realizes there is more to Logan than what I have told him. As I look as his puffy face, I realize just how much he loves me, while I shamelessly sleep with and desire another man.

Mitch folds me into his arms and rubs my back as he kisses the top of my head. "Mia, I love you so much. I'd do anything to protect you, anything."

"I love you too Mitch," I say, my voice low and trembling. "No matter what, you need to know that." I bite back the urge to confess my infidelity.

Mitch releases his hold on me, cups my face in his hands, examines me closely and says, "You need to go to the hospital, Mia."

"It's just a bump," I say dismissively.

"A bump that knocked you out," he returns.

"Like you, it looks worse that what it is, besides I'd have to explain it and I don't want it getting back to base."

He sighs in defeat and says, "I guess we won't be going to Ruth Chris tonight, looking like this."

"Tell ya what," I say playfully, "Let's not let this ruin our day. Let's go to your hotel." A mischievous grin spreads across his face and he places a hand on my cold thigh. The warmth of his touch sends sparks through me. "You did promise me…wild, passionate love."

Without further hesitation, Mitch starts the car and we drive away. I stare out the window, enjoying what's left to see of the beautiful park; only wishing we could have finished what we had started. I can still feel his rough hands on my breasts, his raw animalistic desire for me unable to translate into a more affectionate stroke. He does like control, I convince myself, and I can only hope to develop his sexual preferences to match my own. I reach over and fumble in his lap, pushing my hand into his pants.

"You do realize you never zipped-up your pants," I say coquettishly.

Mitch chuckles and says, "I guess it just didn't cross my mind."

I begin to work my hand up and down in gentle strokes and watch as his serious expression relaxes into one of pleasure.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

With my arms wrapped tight around my body, I walk through the cold hotel hallway. I secretly laugh at the thought that my lips must be the brightest shade of blue. A wave of relief washes over me when I enter Mitch's warm room. He shuts the door, comes behind me, and gently pulls off the blanket. Slowly, he removes my undergarments, lifts me and walks to the bathroom.

A huge tub awaits me, and it's just as I had imagined it, large, marble and inviting. He kisses me softly on the lips and sets me into it. He turns the knobs and the water splashes my toes, its warmth comforting me instantly. Mitch leaves and I begin to relax as my icy body thaws.

"Are you ready for some fun?" he asks as he pops into the room with champagne and bowl of fruit.

My eyes light up and I say, "Wow, that was quick!"

"I had it already planned. Of course, the day's events weren't exactly what I had expected-"

"Never mind," I interrupt, "I love you Mitch and I want to show you just how much." I stretch my arms behind my head, and teasingly open my legs slightly, shut them; then open them a little bit wider.

His jovial expression turns lustful. He pulls his shirt over his head, revealing all the muscles and curves of his fit body. Then he drops his pants and boxer shorts. I see he is excited and ready. He plunges into the water, cradles me in his arms and begins to nibble my neck. His hand makes its way down, and he enters me with a single finger. His touch is gentle, leaving me yearning for more. And then he puts in two fingers and circles, and then three. I arch back and gasp with pleasure when he rolls on top, penetrates me, and thrusts with an unexpected vigor. We climax together.

"How was it?" he asks.

"Beautiful," I say.

He laughs and grabs the champagne. He sits back, and I rest on top of him. We sip the bubbly spirits from long stem glasses and feed each other fruit.

Mitch sighs as he rubs my exposed shoulder with his thumb. "I was looking more for a 'fantastic', or maybe, 'the best sex I've ever had Mitch.'"

I turn to my side and begin to stroke his cheek. "It was all that," I say, "which is why it was beautiful."

He smiles and I wiggle in his lap until he responds with a throbbing erection. He grabs my shoulders and begins to roll me to the side, but I resist and sit on his erection. Slowly, I move back and forth. He begins to moan and grasps my hips, driving himself deeper.

After we climax I throw my arms around his neck and begin to nibble his ear. "I'm glad we did this."

"Me too Mia, I love you." He pushes me back, cups my face in his hands and smiles.

After a few minutes of gazing into each other's eyes, I begin to feel overwhelmed by the heat of the water.

"It's getting hot in here now," I say and spring out of the tub.

We dry each other off and jump into bed naked. He begins to fondle my breasts and then suck my nipples. I push my fingers through his hair as he moves his head down and begins to rotate his tongue in large, soft circles around my clitoris. I arch back and start to climax, but before I am done he penetrates me and thrusts hard. I feel as if I will explode from pleasure.

I snuggle close the Mitch and he plays with my damp hair. Just as I begin to nod off he rolls me to the side and gets out of bed.

"Where are you going?" I ask groggily.

"We need to get your clothes dry and eat. You'll need to leave soon and go back to base."

"Ugh, don't be such a stiff, stay in bed with me, we've a few hours." I throw my arm across the mattress.

Mitch chuckles, and begins to collect my wet clothes. "Mia, we can't wait 'til the last minute. Besides Ben may be waiting for us…you…so I think you should return early."

I am fully awake now and sit up on my elbows. "Are you kidding me? You're worried about Ben? Mitch, this may be the last time we have together for a while."

"What do you mean awhile? I plan of visiting you as often as I can before you ship off to Japan, unless, of course, you don't want to see me."

"Of course I do, silly," I say feeling guilty for having confused our situation with Logan. Mitch, looking suspicious, opens his mouth to speak when I continue, "Speaking of Ben, though, what do you suppose he wanted to show you?"

"I haven't a clue," he responds as he knits his brow.

"Yeah, he went to pull it out of his jacket when you hit him. I think it fell into the water with me."

"Really?" he laughs. "That guy is something else." He hesitates, then continues, "Mia…didn't you…well didn't you ever notice he was unstable? I mean after all the years you had with him-"

"Actually he seemed quite normal to me, except for the occasional rage and his controlling ways. It really wasn't until he realized I was planning on leaving him that he became nutty."

Mitch sits at the edge of the bed, the sound of the dripping clothes bringing back visions of me handcuffed, my wrists bleeding.

"But wasn't there ever a sign… anything?" he asks bewilderedly.

"Maybe there was, Mitch, I just chose not to see it, I guess," I say as I shake visions of the past from my head. "Let's eat, and then go back to the base."

He rests a hand on my knee and gives it a shake. "Okay, good. I'll get these clothes dried and order some room service."

He leaves and I lie in the bed, warm, naked, and comfortable. Of course I knew something was wrong with Ben, but convinced myself that maybe it was me. He was the only man I had even been with, and I believed my dysfunctional upbringing is what caused our rifts. I know differently now and remind myself of the promise I made.

Mitch returns with my clothes and soon after our meal arrives. We snuggle close and feed each other until we can eat no more. Mitch pushes me into my chair, reaches under the room service cart and pulls out a small silver tray with a shiny round lid. I grab at it, but he pulls it away playfully. He smiles, hesitates, and then removes the top, revealing two large, chocolate covered strawberries.

I giggle like a school girl, grab one of the strawberries, throw myself into his lap, and trace the tip down his jaw line, leaving a thin chocolate trail. I eat the fruit seductively, then grab his face between my hands and lick the chocolate from his face.

He counters with his own strawberry, only he lifts me out of his lap and demand I lie in the bed. His exercise of control excites me and I obey.

"Close your eyes," he says softly.

I do as he says. The room grows quiet, the only sound coming from my shallow breath and the beating of my heart. He lies down next to me, the warmth of his body spilling into mine. I shudder when he traces the chilly tip of the strawberry down my neck. He continues dragging it down to my navel and then my clitoris. He circles it around my vagina and then suckles it before popping it into his mouth.

His lips meets mine, making my taste buds explode with chocolate goodness. He breaks free and drags his tongue down the same path as the strawberry. I bite my lip in anticipation as he nears my vagina. He plays with my clitoris and then pushes his tongue in and out of me. He teases me, bringing me close then stopping, over and over again. Finally, he mounts me and penetrates with a gentleness that, while not providing the fire I desire, pleasures me beyond expectation.

Afterward as we lay in each other's arms, me staring deep into his eyes, full with love for me, I feel a strange, unaccountable pang, that spoils this long-expected day and leaves a faint, but enduring flavor if bitterness.

I lean close to him in the car as we drive back to the base. I cannot bring myself to look at him. My heart pangs for his company, but my desires are still for Logan. I try to evaluate my relationship with Logan and cannot make sense of it. He has a roughness that excites me and the control he takes with sex, administering pain and then pleasure leaves me burning for more.

"We're here, Mia," says Mitch, interrupting my thoughts.

I stretch over and kiss him on the lips. "Thanks for visiting me; I really had a great time." I peek out the window and see Logan, just beyond the gate, talking to another soldier, a female. Pangs of jealously rip through me, but I look away, trying to ignore my irrational feelings. "When'll we see each other again?"

"Uh, tomorrow, Mia, as planned, everything okay?" His voice is serious with just a hint of humor.

"I'm sorry," I say, "too much sex makes me stupid." I release a schoolgirl giggle, and immediately feel ridiculous for having done so.

Mitch's eyes flicker from me, to outside the windows, to the rear view mirror.

"You better get going, Mia. Ya never know when Ben might show and we don't need him creating a situation here at the base."

"Okay," I say as I grab his hand and rub it warmly.

My heart aches with love and pity for Mitch. When I am with him my thoughts wander, but when he is away I cannot stop imaging us having a life together.

"Mia, I love you and cannot wait to be with you forever." His eyes shine with delight.

I gulp hard and look away, my eyes falling on Logan.

"Mia, I need to know you feel the same."

"Of course I do," I say, feeling offended.

"Just sometimes I feel you're not here with me…like your mind is somewhere else."

I force a smile, turn to face him, and say, "It's just all happening so fast, but with my commitment to the military, we'll be apart, and if our feelings are still strong, that's all that matters."

"Mia, my feelings are solid for you and I understand you need time. We discussed this before, and I want you to know that I'll give ya all the time you need. We'll only move forward at your pace…just…" He looks away and sighs heavily.

"What?" I ask, my eyes wide and beseeching. I fear losing him, even though I know I'm pushing him away.

"Well, maybe you should get some counseling…ya know, after what Ben did to you and how he continues to torment you. It might help if you talk it out with a therapist."

I know he is not calling me crazy, yet somehow I manage to feel offended. I struggle to hide my emotions, and agree with him. We kiss one last time and plan to meet tomorrow morning.

I return to the base, refusing to look back. When I get just inside the dorm I see Logan talking to the same female soldier. I pretend not to notice, but he calls my name and I turn, meeting the angry stare of the woman. I give her a quick glance, and smile. It's not lost on her that I sized up the competition in a few seconds, and determined that I am the winner. Her look lingers on me, but I'm satisfied and keep my eyes on Logan.

"You okay?" He asks, genuinely concerned.

"Yes, thanks," I say, and an uncomfortable silence falls.

The girl flashes a contrived smile, turns her attention back to Logan and says, "I'll see you later?" She tilts her head to the side and runs her fingers through her brown, silky hair.

"Sure," he says and winks.

After she walks away, with an air of superiority, I hold out the blanket he had lent me.

"Here's your blanket. Thanks for saving me." I say coquettishly.

A half smile flickers across his face. "My pleasure."

He crosses his arms and leans against the wall, placing one ankle over the other. His pants bulge slightly in the front and his biceps flex. I scold myself for feeling aroused.

"Did you miss me?" he asks as he explores my expression.

I feel my face flush and become angry with myself for being so childish.

_You've slept with him already, of course he knows you like his goods._

I shrug my shoulders and ask. "What happened with Candy?"

He laughs and says, "Don't change the subject. Admit it Mia, you missed me. We share something…the same sexual fantasies, and _you_ try to fight it."

I'm angry that he is right, and lower my head, refusing to look him in the eye.

"Let's walk," he says and motions toward the door. "So did you go to the hospital?"

"No," I say, "It wasn't a big deal…just a little bump."

He casts his eyes to the ground and says, "Seems to me like you got a bad concussion. You should've had it looked at."

"Well, I didn't. I'm fine." My tone leaves no room for argument.

He lifts his head, shoves his hands in his pockets and asks, "What are you doing tomorrow?"

"Meeting Mitch again," I say, feeling guilty.

"Oh, well, I won't be meeting Candy, so don't be jealous."

"I'm not jealous," I retort, a little too quick to be believable.

He smirks, reaches to his face and scratches his chin. "Mia, I can feel you want to be with me…we just connect…are you sure about this…Mitch? If you are, then I'll go away."

I know he is manipulating me, but the thought of losing him makes me panic. "I…I'm not sure." I sigh heavily and continue, "I do enjoy our time together, but I know nothing about you."

"You've never asked. I'm an open book, Mia."

My mind is muddled and I convince myself that once I learn more about Logan, I won't be disappointed when our relationship ends. We walk in silence, and I soon realize we are heading to the academic building. When we turn the corner, Logan looks around for passersby, and then shoves me through the door. He guides me to the men's room and locks the door.

His eyes turn cold, penetrating me to the core. I fill with fear and excitement at the same time. He lifts me, placing me on the edge of the sink.

"Well, what do you want to know?" he asks.

"Well, where are you from?" My breath catches as he roughly spreads my legs and thrusts his pelvis between them.

"Colorado."

"Do you have any brothers…sisters?"

"One brother only, he died in Operation Iraqi Freedom." He wiggles his pelvis in a gentle rhythmic motion.

"I'm so sorry," I gasp, "How old was he?"

"Twenty."

I look for any sign of sorrow, but he remains stoic.

"Is that why you joined the service?" I ask, hesitantly.

"No, I always wanted to be a pilot, nothing more, Mia."

He begins to stroke my check with his thumb. It's an unexpected gentleness, and I hold my desire to cry for the pain I know he must hold inside.

"What's your family like?" I loosely drape my arms around his neck.

"My parents work hard and have always treated me well, but I've never enjoyed luxuries."

"Where did you go to school?"

"Embry-Riddle."

"Really, that's impressive."

He grabs my arms and presses them against my sides. His lips meets mine and he shoves his tongue in my mouth. I break free and ask, "Don't you want to know about me?"

"I know all I need to Mia."

He bites my neck and I cry out in pain. I squirm to escape his hold, but he only grips tighter. His tongue moves, like a warm oozy slug, to the hollow of my neck, and rotates in luscious circles. He releases a hand and slaps me hard on the bottom. The tingly pain shocks me from the pleasure I feel, but then the burn subsides, turning into a warm itchy feeling. Logan pushes his hand in my pants and rubs at the spot he so mercilessly spanked. I spread my legs wider, grip him with my free hand, and pull him in closer. His erection pushes like a mole trying to escape the confines of an earthen cave. I grab at his pants buckle, like a desperate sex starved whore. He smacks my hand away, releases his hold on me, and steps back.

I catch my balance as I nearly topple off the sink. "What's wrong?" I ask.

"The dining hall is closing soon and I haven't had anything to eat."

"Seriously?" I say feeling frustrated.

"Yes." He flashes me a coy smile. "We can always continue this tomorrow."

"You're teasing me?" I ask incredulously.

I hop off the edge of the sink and straighten my clothes.

"What're you so upset about?" His eyes gleam with a sadistic flair. "Mitch didn't satisfy your sexual needs?"

"Mitch is very satisfying," I blurt. "This…this is ridiculous. It's emotional blackmail."

"And what about what you're doing to me? You think you can have your cake and eat it too?"

He steps to my side, turns on the water and splashes his face.

"I thought we agreed that we are fuck buddies," I say, feeling my face redden with anger.

"No, that's what you agreed to, but I tell ya what, I'm feeling really horny 'bout now Mia, and I'd prefer if you took care of it." His smile settles into a thin line of anger.

"Or what, you'll go get serviced by someone else?" My eyes glaze with indignation.

"Yeah, Carol's been after me for a while now." He straightens his shirt.

"Carol, Candy," I shout, and then grab his arm, yanking him to face me. "You're such a fucking asshole!"

Logan smirks and counters with, "Well, if we're only 'fuck buddies', what's the problem, Mia? I'm supposed to be your personal boy toy; I'm not allowed to fuck anyone else? After all, you have Mitch, and let's not forget that other guy you're fucking."

Before I can think I raise my hand and slap him hard across the face. "I'm not fucking that other guy! And I was with Mitch before I met you!"

"And I was with Carol!" he yells, his face red, the little vein in his forehead throbbing.

I try to meet his eyes, an apology on my lips, but the damage has already been done.

Logan unlocks the door and cockily strides out of the bathroom. I remain, staring at myself in the mirror. I realize he is right, if I'm not faithful how can I expect him to be? I come to the realization that I'm truly in love with two men, but burn more for Logan. The thought of breaking off with Mitch is more than I can bear.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

"What's wrong with you?" asks Katie as I plop on my bed, feeling like a beaten woman.

"I'm in love with two men," I confess.

"Mitch and Lieutenant McCoy, huh? That's easy to do when you don't keep your emotions in check." Her tone is a little too admonishing for my taste.

I swallow my anger and say, "Yeah, I guess you're right. I want to be with Mitch, but when I'm with him, I long for Logan. It's crazy." I lift up on my elbows and meet Katie's gaze. Her serious expression relaxes into one of humor.

"What?" I ask.

"Damn, which one did that?" She reaches to her neck.

I spring out of bed and race to the mirror. Logan's teeth prints clearly show in my skin, which is red, swollen and almost broken.

"Oh my God," I gasp.

"I have a scarf you can use to cover it," says Katie and she gets up and starts rummaging through her drawers. "That is if you want to." She releases a little giggle.

Just when I get ready to return with a witty reply, I'm startled by a loud knock on the door. Before Katie or I can say anything Carol bursts in.

"So you want him?" she asks. "Well, you keep thinking that because he'll do to you what he's done to all of us!"

Her cheeks burn with fire, and I find myself at a loss for words.

Katie turns to the girl, gets in her face, and with a confrontational tone says, "What exactly is that?"

A sadistic smile spreads across Carol's face as she backs away from Katie. Her eyes fall on me with indignation and she says, "Well, everyone has their limits. Once he reaches yours he'll move on to his next victim."

"What does that even mean?" I ask.

"You'll find out soon enough." Her eyes fall on the bite on my neck. She laughs and says, "Base one is not kissing when it comes to Logan."

She leaves the room in a huff, slamming the door.

"What the fuck?" I blurt.

Katie makes a face and sinks back into her bed. "Sounds like Logan's into some kinky shit."

I sit down on my bed and rub at the bite. I know I should feel terrified of what might be to come, but excitement fills me and I find myself desiring him more than ever. "Maybe," I whisper.

Katie laughs. "Maybe he's met his match with you."

"What?" I divert my eyes, hoping not to give myself away.

"Ha, it's always the quiet ones. You're into kinky shit aren't you?"

I lay back on my bed, refusing to answer. Then it occurs to me that I am meeting Mitch tomorrow. I grab my phone and text him.

'Mitch, cnt meet u tomorrow. Got in trbl, hav 2 stay on base.'

'WTF?,' he responds, 'What happened?'

I rack my brains for a good excuse and finding none type out, 'got to go ttl.'

'k,' he responds, 'prob best w/Ben…really sux, call me when u can.'

I tell him I will and put away my phone. My thoughts then turn to Logan. I text him, 'free tomorrow, rdy to finish what u started?'

'u bet. Meet off base?'

'no'

'?'

'u said u know enuf bout me, so no off base.' I release a sarcastic laugh.

'k'

I call Mitch first thing in the morning.

"Hey, Mia, what happened?" he asks despondently.

"Well, I was asked a question by an upperclassman and didn't know the answer."

"Oh, was it that asshole commander of yours?"

"No, but I can't leave base." I try to sound disappointed and somewhere in my soul I am, but Carol's outburst makes me burn with even more desire for Logan. Despite the battle that rages between my brain and heart, I remind myself that Logan is a toy and Mitch is the man I truly love. Deep inside, I know I should be spending all my time with Mitch, not knowing when I will see him again. But what can I do, with the bite mark? It would be devastating if Mitch discovered my secret affair.

"It's probably for the best, with Ben lurking around. Okay, sweetie, I'm going to head out today then."

"When will I see you again?" I ask, already missing him, and feeling guilty for my lies.

"Don't know. Something came-up and I have to go out to California for a few weeks."

"For work?" I probe.

"No, my mother needs surgery and I want to be there for her."

"My God, is she okay?" I ask, feeling sore that he never shared this with me.

"Yeah, its hip surgery, nothing too serious, but she won't be able to get around for a while."

"Oh, I wish I could be there with you, and meet her." I wait for an apology for his oversight.

"Me too, Mia, but call me when you can and I promise we'll see each other again soon." His voice resonates with a certain sadness that makes my heart ache.

"I miss you already," I say chokingly.

"Me too. Your smell, soft skin and taste will always be on my mind. I love you so much Mia."

"Me too," I say and end the call just as my eyes start to water.

I wipe my nose and walk over to the window. As I watch camouflaged officers walk about, my mind wanders from my love for Mitch to why he never told me about his mother's surgery. Perhaps he is another Ben, protecting me from a dysfunctional family, or maybe he is embarrassed by me. Whatever the reason, knowing he is keeping secrets takes away the sting of my own deceptions. Besides, a few lies will hurt no one. Logan will be gone in a week and then I will be free of the guilt that gnaws at my soul.

I spot Logan walking toward the dorm, looking up at my window. I try to repress the smile that spreads across my face, but his cocky stride, which I know I should detest, excites me. I take a deep breath, collecting myself, and meet Logan outside.

"So why can't you leave base? There is so much I have planned for us and it'll be better off base." His voice is calm, but sharp with irritation.

"I just can't, that's all," I say with finality.

"Oh, I see, you dumped Mitch and you're afraid he'll catch you off base with me." He releases a smug chuckle.

I shrug my shoulders as if to say, 'if that works for you, then so be it.'

He tells me his roommate is out today and quickens his pace to his dorm. My heart beat ticks up and a storm of desire bubbles inside. Without speaking, I walk stealthily behind him through the halls and sneak into his room unnoticed. He locks the door, races over to the window and cracks the blind, letting just enough light trickle through, creating a romantic atmosphere.

I feel awkward at first, but I take a deep breath and throw myself on his bed, forcing myself to relax. Logan's eyes fill with disdain as he approaches me, making me shudder with excitement. He falls to his knees and pulls a backpack from under his bed. I know what's in there and as he unzips the bag I start to undress as seductively as possible, casting my clothes down upon him in an alluring manner.

Ignoring my taunts, he pulls out handcuffs, a quirt and candles. He places the candles atop all four bedposts and lights them. I watch, afraid to move, the beat of my heart throbbing in my ears. He removes his clothes quickly, as if they are burning his flesh, grabs my legs and yanks, making me fall back on the mattress. I scramble away from him, round the bed, and grab the whip.

"What's this about Mia?" he asks his voice grating with anger. He throws himself on the bed and props up on his elbows. His chest heaves as he controls the rage he has for me for foiling his plans.

There is a stony look in his eyes that under normal circumstances would frighten me, but instead I am aroused. Carol's words still echo in my head and I want to torment and tempt Logan into revealing the person he really is.

"Lie flat," I demand, "and roll over." I slap the whip in my hand, enjoying the unexpected sting.

Logan rests further back in a start to comply, watching cautiously, as one might expect of a hostage who wants to disobey, but is fearful of the repercussions.

"You bit my neck to ruin my date with Mitch." I plunge on, my anger growing as I talk. "That was deceitful, mean, planned. _You've_ been a bad boy Logan."

He smirks and says, "So-"

I crack him hard across the chest. His hand rises in protective defense as he moans out in pain.

"Mia, what the fuck!" His voice is stern, his anger transparent.

"It's my turn now," I say with new found confidence.

He rubs at the large red welt that begins to grow across his well-formed pecs. He looks at me, his face filled with bafflement. I enjoy the feeling of power I hold over him. I crack him again.

"Roll over damn it," I hiss.

He springs from the bed and wrestles the whip from my hand. After a brief struggle, I find myself straddled over the bed, and turned on as he breathes heavily in my ear.

"Oh Mia, _you're_ such a naughty girl."

He slaps my bottom hard and I bite my tongue. The irony, sweet blood tastes so good. He pushes back my hair and nibbles at the nape of my neck and then works his way down, biting harder each time. When he gets to my bottom he rotates his tongue around every inch of my buttocks and then jolts upward. His body presses hard against mine, and then I feel his hand as he reaches for his penis and begins to jab at my anus. The pain is excruciating, sweat pours out of my body, and it's all I can do not to cry out, but then I force myself to relax and the pain subsides, turning into ecstasy.

When he finishes and rolls off, I swing my leg over him and sit on top. A look of satisfaction plasters his face. I massage him gently until he falls asleep. Barely audible snores escape him and my mind is a storm as I reach for one of the candles, look down upon him with sadistic pleasure and tilt it. Hot droplets of wax seem to move in slow motion as they fall to his chest and splay out, entangling the curly hairs that frame his well-formed muscles. I had aimed for the nipple, but missed. Logan wakes with a jump, sending me to the side of the bed. He squints his eyes and rubs furiously at his chest.

"What the fuck, Mia?"

I turn to him with cold eyes and say, "You took my turn. It's my turn now."

"Wait…wait," he says. "This isn't how the game's played." He shakes his head in a manner that leads me to believe that he is not only confused by my outburst, but also afraid to upset me.

"So what are you telling me?" I say angrily. "That you're the master and I the slave?"

"I'm sorry, Mia, but I get off on inflicting pain, not receiving." He chuckles and continues, "And you really seem to enjoy the pain, so what's the problem?"

His half-cocked smile does little to hide his insecurities.

"So I dumped my stable, gentle boyfriend, thinking I'd be able to share my every fantasy with you?" I grab another candle and hold it dangerously close to his penis.

He gulps hard and says, "You dumped him?"

"Yes, for you, for us," I lie.

"I…I wish you'd put down that candle Mia." He moves to cover his penis, prompting me to tilt the candle, sending a large drop of wax to his hand.

"This is crazy, Mia!" he says as he shakes his hand wildly.

He jumps up, slaps the candle from my hold, grasps my shoulders and shakes me.

"Look, Logan, you're obviously into some kinky shit-"

"Which you obviously enjoy," he throws in.

"But how many of your other girlfriends have enjoyed your little torture sessions? How many _bases_ do you hit before they run away screaming." I feel my face twist into a defiant smile.

His eyes widen and his mouth falls slightly open, as if he's surprised that poor stupid little Mia fell upon a not so obvious conclusion.

"It turns me on to have a chance at the whip…so much so that'd I be willing to do anything you want," I say with a flirtatious lilt to my voice.

I grab the whip and begin to rub my hand up and down its thick leather shaft. My heart pounds wildly as I see his eyes glaze over with fear mixed with excitement. I know right then that he's feeling the same as me, and understands. Pleasure and pain mixed with shared control brings a thrill that one cannot imagine, but only experience.

He hesitates and his brow furrows deeply. "Okay, Mia, I'm willing to submit to you and then afterward, you _will_ submit to my every desire." His voice takes the commanding drill sergeant tone, which I have come to love.

A rush of heat passes over me as I savor the moment. For once I have won in the game of sex, but it short lived when the sound of voices echo through the hall. I stand motionless, ears strained.

"It's uncomfortable in here doing this," I say, feeling inhibited.

"That's why I wanted to go off base, Mia." He springs from the bed, embraces me and begins to kiss the top of my head. The gentleness he shows after a rough session is the comfort and reassurance I need, his soft touch the cigarette after good sex.

I am lying on my bed, deep in thought, when my phone beeps, starling me. When I take the call my heart twists with guilt and leaps at the same time.

"Hey Mia, I'm at the airport, missing you already," says Mitch in his sexiest voice possible.

"Ah, Mitch, baby, I miss you too," I say, meaning it. I convince myself that my attachment to Logan is sexual only, and that once I satisfy my fantasy and we part, I don't miss him too much, at least not until I start thinking about our time together, and find myself burning with desire for him.

"Yeah, well, I had a nice day planned for us, but we can always Skype, or talk to each other on the phone and…" His voice trails off as if he's afraid to speak his mind, but then he forces himself to continue, "…and have phone sex."

My eyes light-up and I bounce from my bed. "Wow, Mitch I never figured you for phone sex."

He chuckles and says, "Wow, I never figured you'd be so excited by the thought."

"But I am Mitch; don't ever be afraid to share you fantasies with me." I hold my breath, and then release a heavy sigh as I walk over to the window, my heart fluttering with excitement.

"I just don't want to turn you off…you're so sweet…so innocent…and I'd never do anything to jeopardize our love for one another. You do love me…Mia."

"I do," I say as I return from my daydreaming, having imagined Mitch and Logan switching places. "I want to explore so many sexual avenues with you."

"Oh, really," he says, his voice lilting with a half-taunting humor. "Like what?"

I start to gnaw the insides of my mouth. _It's too soon._

"Um, well how about that phone sex?" I stammer, feeling like a fool.

"I already said that Mia, are you embarrassed to tell me? If we are going to spend the rest of our lives together, then we need to be able to talk about these things." His voice is practically pleading.

I know he is right, but I cannot find the proper words to express my desires. Had I not fallen into the lifestyle with Logan? _Lifestyle, huh? _What do I say? I want you to get a whip and crack me? I want you to spank me and call me naughty? _It's too soon._

"I want to masturbate in front of you," I blurt.

"Oh, I'd like that…I'd like that a lot Mia." He starts to laugh. "For a minute there I thought you were going to say you want me to tie you up and beat you."

I grow cold as a knot forms in the pit of my stomach. I fall silent, trying to decide how to proceed, but the uncomfortable silence forces Mitch to begin.

"I'm, I'm sorry, Mia…I let it slip my mind." He makes his voice as soothing as he can.

"Sorry for what?"

"For the comment, after what Ben did to you-"

"What Ben did was different," I interrupt, letting the anger and disappointment I feel flood me. "I…I don't have some…some hang-up over it."

"Okay Mia, what…are you okay?" His voice resonates with concern.

Realizing I must sound like a crazy woman I weigh my options and decide to come clean.

"Mitch, sometimes I like it a little rough…It excites me…I don't know why, but I want us to try things together…experiment…all couples experiment…who knows maybe you'll discover something new and exciting that you like…and me too.." I stop rambling and catch my breath.

After a few moments of silence Mitch responds. "Wow Mia, I think we should discuss this in person."

My emotions start to roil. "I thought we're going to be honest with one another. It sounds like you think it odd."

"No, of course not Mia, it just seems-"

"What? Perverted, twisted?" I fill in the blanks.

"No Mia, don't put words in my mouth. That's not fair. I just pictured you different that's all." His words are clunky, he knows it, and tries to correct them. "You're like a delicate flower to me, and after the way Ben treated you, well, I just wouldn't expect you to like anything…well…rough."

"What Ben did to me was cruel, it was unchecked violence and he tore at my self-esteem." My heart is pounding so hard that I sit and force myself to relax, afraid it may explode.

"Mia," he begins, softly. "Were you and Ben into S and M?"

"No Mitch…Ben was always in charge of when and where we had sex, but I'm liberated now and I….that's right…innocent….delicate little Mia, wants to experiment with her own sexuality…her own fantasies." I release a giant sigh of relief.

Mitch clears his throat. "Ok Mia, I'm willing to try anything with you. I'll do anything to make you happy."

At first I'm excited that he's willing to try, but then the uncertainty in his voice floods through me, creating disappointment.

I spring to my feet, race my fingers through my hair and begin to pace. "So you'll try…against your will just to please me?"

"Mia, it's not against my will…really it isn't and I'm sorry if I made it sound that way," he sighs in exasperation. "I'm just a little surprised, that's all, nothing more."

"Mitch," I begin, changing my tone, "what's the kinkiest thing you've ever done?"

After several seconds of silence he spits out, "Wow, Mia…this is a little awkward."

"Tell me," I insist. "I want to know…I want to know how it compares to the things I want to try with you."

"Well…I did have a one night stand once who insisted on being tied up to the bed and have her nipples bitten."

I break out laughing and he follows with a hearty guffaw.

"So how'd you feel about that," I ask with renewed vigor.

"Well, I thought it was weird. I really don't like hurting people. Love should be gentle, sweet, and full of pleasure, not pain."

I feel deflated. "So did you do what she asked?"

"I did, and she got hot so I was okay with it, but she was a one night stand, I didn't have feelings for her, so I don't know." His voice is apologetic.

I stop pacing and peer out the window, seeing Logan approaching the dorm. A smile creeps across my face as I convince myself that I can and will convert Mitch into an S&M Adonis.

"Look Mitch, I've got to go." My voice pitches with excitement.

"You seem happy about that," he jokes. "I'll give you a call when I get into LAX."

"Okay, babe, love you."

Just when I go to end the call he speaks.

"Mia, don't get me wrong…I do want to experiment with you. There's things I want to do, but haven't shared with you yet. And just maybe you'll like it."

"I'm sure I will Mitch-"

"Just I rather talk about these things in person…You understand?"

"I do," I say, thinking he only wants to read my expressions as he hits me with his fantasies or when I relay my own.

"Talk to ya later, love you," he says and ends the call.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

I burst through the dormitory doors and embrace Logan.

"Whoa," he says surprised, "aren't' you afraid of people seeing us? After all I'm still your commander."

My eyes sparkle as I look into his and say, "Not for long, so we better enjoy it while we can."

"So you ready to go," he asks and gives me a little squeeze, his excitement pulsing into me.

I nod my head and as we walk to his SUV, I take long deep breaths, clearing my lungs with the cool air. Many people trot about the base, enjoying the beautiful weekend. Others are busy packing as they prepare to ship out, their training complete.

"Ready to be an upperclassmen?" asks a jovial Logan as he strolls beside me, his gait somewhat cocky.

"Eh, I think so." A grin creeps across my face as I continue, "I've learned from the biggest asshole in the Air force."

Logan releases a chuckle, slaps me on the shoulder and tells me that he has put in good words for me.

As I climb into his truck I catch a glimpse of his backpack on the backseat. When I turn to face Logan, I find him staring at me, his brows furrowed deeply.

"Are you worried Mia?" he asks.

"No, why?" Sighing slightly, I push back in my seat and smile wanly at him.

"You just look a little concerned." He reaches over, grabs my hand and gives it a warm squeeze.

"Should I be concerned?" I feel my eyes open as wide as saucers.

He tousles my hair, chuckles and says, "Nope, we're going to have a lot of fun." A grin the size of Texas spreads across his face and his eyes take a mischievous glint.

Feeling a little worried I ask, "Logan, how long have you been doing this?"

"Doing what? S and M?"

"Yes." I watch his expression closely.

"Well, as long as I can remember. It usually depends on my partner and how far she's willing to go."

"And how far have partners been willing to go?"

"Some far, others not so far," he says playfully.

"C'mon, I'm serious. I…I'm new to this _lifestyle_ and want to know more. It seems to me like most of these people pick-up other's on dating sites-"

"Maybe some but not all. I've never picked-up anyone on a dating site or a swing party or whatever else people may believe about us. I just push it as far as I can go, and more often than not the girl leaves…doesn't like it," he responds matter-of-factly.

"Hmmm, ever met anyone who did like it?" I inquire with a hint of slyness in my voice.

"Yep, one girl, but she wanted me to a sign a contract, making her my slave, but I refused to sign for a relationship - so she moved on."

"What does that even mean?" I ask baffled.

"She just wanted me to commit to be her master for a period of time and she'd have to fulfill certain obligations and me too. It seemed silly to me and I be damned if I was going to sign some piece of paper she could hand over to a superior officer and fuck me with."

"Oh, I see…I understand." I gaze out the window and watch as the piney trees pass by, and imagine myself back in the car with Mitch when he first drove me to Alabama. Things were going to be simple. I was going to use my time in the military to learn more about myself and recover from a bad relationship, but instead things have become even more complicated.

Logan chuckles and I turn to meet his eyes. He says in a voice deep from within his heart, "That's what makes you special. You want a relationship Mia, no strange commitment terms or aversion to trying new things. But you're also a little confused right now, with that boyfriend of yours and that other guy stalking you."

I fall silent and begin to crack my knuckles. A gnawing pain turns in the pit of my stomach.

"Mia, what's wrong?" asks Logan.

"I…I just worry, what if you go too far?"

He rests a reassuring hand on my thigh. "Mia, tell me to stop and I will. I promise." He makes a pouting face that sets me off giggling.

I'm silent for a moment, trying to figure out how to broach the topic I've been mulling over most of the morning, and finally burst out, "Logan, what you did earlier seemed terrible at first, but then I began to enjoy it….a lot-" I release an uncomfortable giggle and plunge on - "just….if I'm not sure when it's enough, how will you know?"

"I'll know, Mia, believe me."

He makes a quick left hand turn, making the tires screech in protest, and plastering me against the door. I brace myself, take a quick grab at my seatbelt and turn to Logan. My heart skips as a look of worry spreads across his face.

"What's this all about? Are you mad?" I try to restrain flashbacks of Ben driving crazy just to scare me into submission. I close my eyes, as if by the action I can withhold painful images from popping into my mind.

"Sorry, Mia," he says as he takes another quick turn. "I thought someone was following us."

"Who?" I ask. My heart pounds like a fist and I snap my head around, looking for Ben.

"I think I lost him now, Ha, sucker!" Logan yells as if he has just won a drag race.

"But who was it, did you see?" I'm not feeling nearly as ecstatic as he is.

"I don't know, why, you suppose it was that asshole that got his ass beat by your boyfriend?"

"Ben? It's possible, he's crazy." I continue twisting my head, looking, all the while filling with dread. What if Logan cannot defend me like Mitch?

"So that was the guy who abused you, and instead of telling him to fuck off when you could, you ran away by joining the military?" He briefly turns to face me, his expression changing to one of remorse as I gaze at him with stony eyes.

"I did tell him to fuck-off," I say bitterly. "And I joined the military because I needed a job."

"Ok, ok, maybe I go that one wrong," he responds, but in a tone that does not seem completely sincere. "But I am confused by the ninja…where does he come in?"

I cross my arms over my chest, my fingers digging into my arm. "It doesn't matter, I broke up with him. I'm not going to ask you about _Carol_."

I fume that my personal life is so transparent to everyone. I long to be in Japan already where I can start over and only share what I want people to know about me.

"Whoa! Damn! Carol…yeah she is something else…The girl who wanted a contract…" A snort-like chuckle escapes him.

I hold back the chocking sensation that rises in my throat. My face flushes at the realization that Carol was trying to scare me away from Logan, manipulating me into thinking she doesn't play naughty with the boys.

"We're here," announces Logan as he pulls into a Holiday Inn.

My scowl is replaced with a smile. "I can't wait." I'm burning with an anger that can only be settled with a whip.

I scold myself for being so easily manipulated by people. For now on I'm going to listen to my inner voice and to hell with everyone else. We park and get out of the car. Logan slips his backpack over his shoulder and saunters toward me. His easy going stride and package revealing jeans turn me on, almost replacing the anger that rages inside of me.

He already has the key to the room. I enter first and he closes and locks the door. He turns to me with lust in his eyes, but before he can grab me and rough me up like he likes to do, I charge forward, slamming my fists on his chest. He bounces back, a look of puzzlement across his face.

"You know you sure have a lot of nerve doing what you did to me, and being so certain I'd play along." My voice cracks in indignation.

Remorse floods over him as his expression softens into one of understanding. "Mia, look I'm sorry…I just really wanted a special moment with you before I ship off, and I admit I acted deceitfully, but I just adore you so much," he says with a twisted smile and ambles toward me, hands extended. But I rebuff his advance.

Placing my hands on my hips I look at him with contempt, but I feel my anger drain away, to be replaced with pity. He looks upon me in rueful silence, as if he is weighing my soul on some invisible spiritual scale.

My voice drops slightly. "How do you really feel about me Logan?"

"I adore you Mia" – Then, as if sensing I want more, he forces himself to continue-"I…I love you Mia."

My heart seems to leap and get stuck in my throat. "Are you sure?" I croak. "I mean we barely know each other."

He folds me into his arms, gently rocks me and kisses the top of my head.

"I know Mia, and I didn't want to say it and freak you out, but you've got to trust me."

After several seconds of silence, I look up into his hazel eyes and feel his love for me radiate throughout my body. We begin to kiss, softly at first and then passionately. His hands grab hold my shoulders and he directs me to the bed, shoving me on top the mattress.

"Take off your clothes," he demands in his drill Sargent voice.

"What if I don't want to?" I ask coyly as I lift up on my elbows and stare at him with wanton eyes.

"Then, I'll have to undress you myself and you _will_ be punished."

He rushes toward me, pulls my arms over my head and begins to bite my neck. The pain is sharp, but short lived. He bites me again, sending pulses of pleasure up and down my spine. He stops to meet my gaze, his eyes full of lust and love. But his expression changes to anger and in one quick motion, he sits on top of me and pulls at my shirt, as if removing it is a matter of life and death. After bringing it over my head and casting it aside, he reaches behind my back, unlatches my bra and throws it over his shoulder.

I feel my thighs moisten as the excitement builds, and as I anticipate what is to come next, he surprises me by pulling cuffs from behind his back, rolling me over and handcuffing me. I remain motionless as he tugs on my shorts, slipping them over my hips. He giggles with delight as he rubs his hand up and down my soft buttocks, pleasantly surprised, I'm sure, that I am not wearing any underpants.

He slaps my ass hard, bounces off the bed and races to his backpack. I keep the suspense by diverting my eyes from him, only hearing the slap of leather against his hand. I know what is to come next and writhe in delight as he cracks my buttocks with the whip.

"Mia, you've been very, very naughty. I'm gonna have to teach you a lesson."

As I lay there, tingling with excitement, waiting, expecting the next crack, or maybe even a bite, I instead feel the unmistakable chill of metal pressing against the small of my back. I gulp hard and become dizzy as my breathing becomes shallow and my excitement turns to panic.

"Logan, what-"

A hand falls over my mouth, and my ear grows warm and moist as he leans close and whispers, "Relax, Mia, take your punishment."

He strokes me gently with the metal object, then twists it slightly, and runs the tip down my back and across my buttocks. It catches every now, scraping at my skin as it pulls through.

I shake my head from side to side, trying to escape his grasp.

"No knives, no knives," I tell him.

"Relax Mia, I'm not going to hurt you, trust me," he says.

I force myself to relax as he bends my legs behind my back and ties my ankles together, and then binds them to my hands, leaving me hogtied. As I lay there, motionless, and trembling, he begins to trace the sharp point of the knife along every inch of my body. I force my head as far as possible to the side to watch, which only makes him laugh. He bounces from the bed and returns with a blindfold. Feelings of terror mixed with excitement percolate through me as he covers my eyes.

He continues to prod me with the knife. At first he is gentle and then begins to press harder, making my skin feel like it's about to split. He works it along the curve of my buttocks and travels further down. I begin to panic, ready to struggle to escape, when Logan removes the cold steel tip. I exhale heavily in relief, and then he unties my ankles and spread my legs. A hard object penetrates me. He trusts it in and out and I expect to feel pain and the warmth of my own blood, but there is neither. I cry out as I orgasm. Afterward he enters me with force, making me cum again.

I lay still, my heart pounding out of control. Logan removes the blindfold and strokes my hair.

"You ok, Mia?" he asks.

"Yea," I say, exhausted from the strain of the session.

"What was that?" I ask.

He chuckles and says, "A vibrator."

"I thought you were killing me at first."

"I'd never hurt you," he says reassuringly.

He loosens the rope that binds me and draws me into his arms. I bury my face into his rough, muscular chest and close my eyes, ready for sleep.

"Mia, it's time to go," whispers Logan in my ear as he gently caresses my shoulder.

"I'm so sleepy," I say and roll away from him, onto to my side. "What about my turn?"

He rips the sheet off of me and starts jiggling the bed. "There's no time. Seriously, I've got to be back on base in thirty minutes."

"Why?" I ask as I lift up on my elbows.

"Because I have some stuff I need to get done." His voice is frantic.

"Geez, okay. You aren't lying to me to skip my turn are you?"

"Mia, c'mon, it can be your turn next time, anything you want. That was our deal. I didn't forget."

I don't understand his urgency, but feel he is being honest. I want to ask what is so important, but something about his demeanor tells me that he does not want to share. Releasing a few moans of protest, I pull myself out of bed and get dressed.

When we leave the room, the remaining rays of light make one final effort to resist the impending darkness. I squint my eyes and as they adjust, my sights focus on a car across the street. Blinking several times I am finally able to make out a man, he rolls down the window and stares. His evil grin and curly brown hair sends pangs of terror shooting through me. A small gasp escapes my lips, and does not go unnoticed by Logan.

"What is it, Mia?" He turns and asks.

"Nothing, I…I didn't realize how late it is, we really need to get moving." My stomach grumbles in pain and hunger.

"You're hungry, I'm sorry we don't have time to eat." He catches my hands in his, looks me in the eye and says, "I lost track of time. The dining hall should still be open if we hurry."

We rush toward his SUV, and although it is difficult, I force myself not to look again at Ben. Not wanting another confrontation, I decide its best not to tell Logan.

As we drive away, I glance nervously out the side mirror and, much to my relief, Ben does not follow, but I know it's not the last I will see of him. His ego has been bruised by the ass-kicking Mitch gave him. I smirk as the thought passes my mind that he probably does not want to get another beating, this time from Logan.

"What's so funny?" asks Logan, clearly not amused.

"Nothing," I say with a dismissive wave of the hand.

I turn to look at him, the easy grin having left his face and, although he feels my eyes upon him, he refuses to acknowledge me.

"What's up?" I ask, not understanding the situation.

There is silence and finally he turns to me, a wintry smile molding his lips into an expression that leaves no doubt something is bothering him. He then speaks, his voice low and sullen, but still his words shake me.

"I'm leaving in a week, Mia, and will probably never see you again."

I can feel my face droop to the floor and I am thankful that his eyes are no longer on me. A dreadful silence follows, and soon, no longer able to stand it, I say, "Logan, why? Were you talking bullshit when you said you wanted to be more than a fuck buddy?"

"Mia, did I tell you something tonight?" he returns, his voice oozing as much sarcasm as he is able to muster.

I frantically jog my brain, trying to remember. I feel like it's some type of test that I cannot afford to fail, and then it suddenly occurs to me. "That you love me?"

"And I'm still waiting."

"But I do care for you," I say as I shift uneasily in my seat.

"Care, what is care? Is that the same as love?" His voice rises dangerously.

"My heart has been broken, Logan and I'm just not ready to" - I falter, then make myself finish the sentence – "jump into a relationship."

"So you've used me and now dumping me, like you dumped the other guy, and then the guy before that?" He says, his voice cracking with indignation.

"You don't know the circumstances there Logan." He tries to interrupt, but I press on, "I do care for you, but I need more time."

"Time to heal, Mia, or time to get over your lawyer friend?"

I look out the window, afraid he will see the deceit in my eyes if I tell him that he is the only one I care for. I try to convince myself that I have no feelings for Logan, but I am only deceiving myself. He is arrogant, rough, and often times uncaring, but then he will do or say something so endearing that my heart will sing above my voice of reason.

"I don't want to tell you I love you until I really know for sure, that's all."

"Wow," he says and sighs heavily. "So why aren't you sure? Don't you feel anything, a spark, a longing for me when I am not with you? Anything?

"Of course I do, but I've jumped into relationships before and been hurt. I just want to slow things down, that's all." I reach over and place my hand on his thigh. "Please Logan; I feel my heart breaking right now. I don't want to lose you. I'm sorry I'm not recovering as quickly as I hoped-"

"Recovering Mia, what happened to you?" He turns sincere eyes upon me and pats my hand.

I inhale deeply, and against my better judgment, I tell him about my painful relationship with Ben and how Mitch rescued me.

When I finish he tells me, "Mia, I understand you feel like you owe Mitch something. I get it, you still have feelings for him, but you broke it off for a reason. You need to follow your heart."

I cannot bring myself to tell him I lied, to manipulate him, like he manipulates me.

I smile, the darkness now masking my face. "I guess you're right, but I just don't trust my heart."

Our departure is cool and I find myself alone in my room, looking out the window, admiring the trees, under the glow of the street lights, casting their shadows along the walk. Logan is off in the distance, his hands shoved in his pockets, his head hung low. He never once looks back, even though I am certain he knows I am watching.

I feel a small ache in my heart and I get the horrible feeling that I will never see Logan again. I do love him, but how can I tell him that when I also love Mitch? It does not seem fair to me that I must rush a decision. How could I possibly know which man is right for me? I am certain that neither one has shown me his true colors. In matters of love my heart cannot be trusted, and if I must decide it will be Mitch, only because, in the end, he seems the more sincere. Logan manipulates, making him untrustworthy. A solid relationship must be built on something more than sex.

I fall back on my bed, reach over to my purse and pull out my phone. Three missed calls and two text messages.

'I arrived' says one from Logan. 'Payback is hell,' says one from anonymous.

_Who could that possibly be?_

I check all missed calls from Mitch and dial him, determined to hide the panic I feel rising in my chest.

"Hey, Mia, what happened to you?" he asks jovially.

"My phone died," I lie, "Um…how was your flight?"

_Breathe, Mia breathe._

"It was good, and I'm here now at my mother's house. She goes in for surgery tomorrow."

"Well, I hope everything goes well," I say in automatic polite mode.

"Everything okay with you Mia?" asks Mitch, his voice edging with worry.

"Well, I know now is not the time, and I don't want to alarm you, but I got a weird text message." I say, praying there would be no trembling in my voice.

"What did it say? He asks concern ripping through his voice.

"Pay back is hell."

"Hmm, well who all have you given your number to?"

"Well, Katie, you, and…" I get ready to say Logan, when I catch myself, "and that's everyone."

"Are you sure?" he asks with a hint of suspicion in his voice.

"Yeah, I mean I've met a few other people on base, but I'm certain I didn't give them my number."

"Maybe it was a wrong call type of thing."

I remain silent for several minutes, knowing very well he is thinking the same thing as me. So I just come right out and say it, "Or maybe Ben?"

"I didn't want to alarm you, but I guess it could be, after all, he used to be a detective. He could have sent it, obviously blocking his number."

I begin to pace the room, phone in one hand, as the other reaches to my mouth and I start to chew at my already stubby nails.

"Should I go to the police?" I ask.

"Well, if you do that, then the military will find out there is a problem, and that could make things bad for you. You should be safe on base, just don't leave base Mia. Did you go off base today?"

"No," I lie.

I am met with silence, which leaves me to believe he knows I am lying.

"Okay, you're right, I'll stay on base for the remaining time I have here."

The door opens with a bang, making me nearly jump out of my skin. Katie plows into the room, takes a small hop and lands on her bed with a thud. She stretches out on her side, crosses her ankles and looks at me. An amused expression stretches across her face.

"Look, Mia, I've got to go….I'll give you a call tomorrow after my mother goes in for surgery." His voice is uneasy and rushed.

"Ok, Mitch, I hope all goes well…I really hope to meet your mom some day."

"I love you Mia and call me if anything should happen, ok?"

"I will. Love you too. Bye."

"So wuz-up?" asks Katie.

I ignore her as I furiously delete my text messages and call logs as Logan had instructed me to do. Then I lift my head and respond. "Not much, that was Mitch. He's at his mother's house."

"Does he know you're two-timing him?" Katie props up on her elbows, a mischievous grin spreading across her face.

"No," I say, feeling irritated by her amusement over my love triangle.

She throws herself back on her mattress and giggles. "You're so lucky; I'd love to have two chicks fighting over me."

"It's an ego booster, Katie, yeah, at first, but I have feelings for both these guys," I say sincerely as an uneasy feeling gnaws at my insides.

"You're just too emotional to get involved in such things," says Katie, looking more serious than ever.

I feel my legs begin to shake and quickly sit down on my desk chair. "So true," I push out through tightly pressed lips.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

He takes a deep breath, pushes his fingers through his hair and forces himself through the front door. A wall of smoke, mingled with the scent of sweaty male bodies, hits him, making him want to vomit, but he is on a mission and nothing is going to stop him.

He makes his way to the bar, feeling eyes fall upon him, and hearing high-pitched giggles, like those of girls at junior prom, gushing over the hot boy who just walked in. 'The women,' he thinks to himself, feeling disgusted and somewhat amused at the same time.

"Oh, what can I get you?" asks the effeminate man from behind the bar, as his eyes shift unabashedly up and down his body.

"Scotch on the rocks," he shouts over the blaring techno music.

He throws the fag a ten dollar bill, gulps the liquor, then slams down the glass. The bartender races over, a girlish smile plastering his face, and hands him another drink.

After gulping down the drink and feeling sufficiently buzzed, the man turns to face the people who disgust him beyond words. Scanning the room quickly, looking for the military man, he is careful not to let his eyes linger too long at any one point. He knows how these people think, one look and they take it as a green light.

He considers moving further to the back of the bar, but he knows what goes on there, and decides instead to keep an eye on the door. Besides, it's still early and the military man is most likely not here yet.

He feels the blood drain from his face as he makes eye contact with one of the 'women'. And before long, the tall, skinny man saunters toward him, swaying his hips in a provocative manner. The fag gets close, pushes against the man's leg, his red leather pants rubbing against him, and sticking.

"My apologies," says the homo in a high-pitched voice. "I'm a little sticky tonight." He bursts out laughing, sounding more like a debutant than a man.

The man turns back toward the bar and taps the counter. "I'll have another." He drinks slowly, controlling the urge to pull the Glock pistol out of his pocket and pop the bastard. But knowing he cannot let the military man escape him, he finally turns back, and to his dismay the queer is still there.

"My, aren't we serious," mocks the man as he twists his head and brings his face closer to his own. "I'm Big Jon by the way." He extends a limp hand, but the man ignores it.

"Are you here with someone?" he prods. "Do you have a name?"

"Steve," he lies, keeping his voice carefully under control. "Yeah, I'm waiting for someone, now do you mind."

Big Jon huffs, releases a hissing sound and leaves with the air of a spurned woman.

Just when he thinks he can no longer stand being in the bar, the door swings open and in walks the military man. He is alone, as usual, out again for a fresh piece of ass. The man knows his type, someone who looks a lot like him, and he fits the bill. Taking a deep breath, he forces himself to smile and pretends the military man is a beautiful woman approaching the bar. He smiles brilliantly and the military man responds.

"Hello," he says, "Can I get you a drink?"

"Sure, I'm Steve by the way." He reaches up and gives his shoulder a firm squeeze. He knows he likes a man who takes control.

"Nice to meet you Steve, I'm Tim."

They sit at the bar together and share a few drinks. Steve lets Tim control the conversation and continues to buy drinks, hoping he cannot hold his liquor, and to his relief he is right. After a while Tim's words begin to slur and he fights to hold himself upright at the bar. Steve gulps hard, turns on his fake smile and asks Tim if he needs a place to stay, that he seems a bit tipsy.

Tim's eyes light-up and he says, "I cannot return to base like this." His hand flies to his mouth as if he has just revealed a dangerous secret.

"It's okay, I've met lots of military men in here," lies Steve. "Unfortunately, I have company at home, my children are visiting." He knows how those types like a man who was once straight and finally discovered he is actually gay.

Tim smiles and suggests they take a hotel. Steve settles the bill, being careful to pay in cash only.

After they leave Big Jon runs over to the bartender and says, "I've never seem him here before, have you?"

"No," responds the bartender, "but he sure is hot."

"Hum, I'm going to ask around about him, none of my friends have ever seen him before, but I heard him says he picks-up military men here all the time." He rests an elbow on the bar and slumps, watching the men stumble off, deep in thought.

Tim scans the parking lot for Tim's car. "Where is it?" he asks impatiently.

Tim pulls keys out of his pocket and points with a shaky finger at an old Honda Accord. Steve grabs the keys from his hand and drags the man toward the car. He is tired of this game and wants to be done with it.

Once inside the car, Tim turns to Steve and suggests they meet some other time, when he is not quite so intoxicated.

Steve forces the sides of his mouth to curl up into a smile, turns to him, pushes his hand into his pants and begins to rub his penis.

Tim moans under the touch of the warm, masculine hand. "Okay," he blurts out as he reaches over and begins to stroke Steve's arm.

Steve quickly retracts his hand, disgusted at having touched another man in such a manner. His skin crawls and his anger builds for her. It's her fault that his has to do this. She has brought him to this humiliation. She will be his forever; there is no choice in the matter for her, not now.

Steve goes to a rundown hotel, safely away from the bar and the base. He parks in the back, away from the main entrance, and under the street light he had broken earlier. He lets the car idle for several minutes as Tim drifts in and out of sleep. He looks at the dashboard clock.

_It's still early._

Satisfied no one occupies the room he is watching, he turns the ignition off, leaves the car and forces the hotel door's lock. He is careful to close the blinds, and then flicks on the light. Returning to the car, he drags Tim out of the passenger's seat.

Tim throws and arm over his shoulder, gets close and tries to kiss Steve, but finds himself being rejected.

"What's wrong," he snorts as he tries to straighten-up.

"Not out here, I don't like public displays of affection," responds Steve.

They enter the room, Steve throws Tim on the bed, and then races over to the door, shutting and locking it.

Tim looks-up with wide, distrusting eyes. He props himself on his elbows. "I think maybe we should plan this another time."

"We're already here," says Steve, "Why waste the moment?" He seethes with anger as he takes a deep breath, unzips his pants and pulls out his penis. He turns to face Steve and begins to approach.

Tim's face morphs into a smile and he pulls himself upright. His mouth seems to water with anticipation as Steve nears. "My, aren't we well endowed."

Tim gingerly masturbates Steve's penis. Steve closes his eyes tight, imaging he is with a beautiful woman, but then the betrayal pops into his head and he fills with rage.

_Bitch! She is going to pay. She'll be lucky if I don't kill her!_

Steve reaches into his back pocket and pulls out part of an electrical cord. He opens his eyes, amazed he has an erection as Tim wraps his lips around his penis and begins to suck. His eyes shift down and he notices Tim has taken out his own penis and it is flopping from side to side as it throbs into an erection.

It's more than Steve can bear. His vision grows blurry and his head feels as if it is going to explode. With one quick motion he grabs Tim by the shoulders and shoves him face down into the mattress. He puts a knee into his back as he tightens his grip on the electrical cords and brings it over Tim's head, around his neck. He twists hard and squeezes. He can feel the pressure in his head as he makes a herculean effort to get this done quickly. Tim reaches up, grabs at the cord, but it's a useless attempt at survival. He is too drunk and too weak. Steve has overpowered him.

Steve admires Tim's effort as he thrashes violently under his hold. His feet kick wildly and he screams, but his voice is muffled by the mattress. After several minutes, what felt more like hours, Tim goes limp.

Satisfied he is dead; Steve rolls him over, puts his head on his chest and listens for a heartbeat. He doesn't bother checking for a pulse, realizing he may not feel anything through the glue he was careful to spread over his fingertips.

He searches Tim's pockets and finds his wallet. Opening it, he sighs in relief as he pulls out Tim's military ID. He continues his search to the rest of the room, looking for any signs of evidence. Convinced he has a clean crime scene, he reaches into his front pocket and pulls out a little plastic baggy. He gently opens it and is careful to pull out a few hairs and drop them on the mattress.

He turns out the lights and closes the door behind him. As he climbs into the Honda he thinks, 'I am one step closer to winning her heart.'

The drive to the base feels like hours, and as he approaches the gates, he puts a baseball cap on, and pulls it low.

"Good evening," says the man dressed in military fatigues.

Steve is careful not to lift his head as he extends his hand with Tim's military ID.

"Ok, have a nice night Colonel McIntyre." He waves him in.

Steve parks behind a dormitory, _his_ dormitory. He turns off the ignition and leaves the keys in the car. As he walks to the front of the building, being careful to stay in the shadows, he looks up and notices the lights are off in _his_ room.

As he passes through the main doors, he keeps his head low and walks toward theroom. He knows he is alone now, his roommate having voluntarily withdrawn from the program that very day. Pleasure rises inside him as he thinks about how tonight is supposed to be _his_ special night. Everything is going perfect, just a week away from graduating officer training school, a long successful career as pilot in his future, and a girlfriend. A girlfriend who will do anything he asks as long as he never leaves her. A girlfriend who trusts him blindly, despite the secrets he hides from her.

He shudders at the thought that she could possibly prefer that scumbag over him. That twisted sexual pervert who found her weakness and took advantage of it.

He looks from side to side, satisfied that he is alone, he proceeds to pick the door's lock. Slipping inside quickly, he stands for several minutes, blinking, waiting for his eyes to adjust. From the glow of the moon he sees his options are limited. He can either try to fit in the bureau or slip under what was the roomie's bed.

He opens the bureaus doors and sits inside, drawing his legs close to his body, but when he tries to pull the door's shut he realizes he does not fit. His only choice now is to hide under the bed.

The thought of lying down on the dirty floor, the floor where that bastard walks infuriates him. He reaches up and rubs frantically at his temples and sputters in suppressed rage. With fists clinched tight, he raises his hands to the ceiling and release a low moan.

_Damn bitch! Why'd she have to do this to me? She'll pay. No, no…_

He begins to shake his head and thoughts of her innocence push away his angry feelings. He loves her and knows she is naïve and does not mean to hurt him. She's just too weak to do the right thing, the proper thing. He will show her the way. He will be her caretaker and she will love him…

A jangle of keys startles him from his thoughts. Without further hesitation he sits on the floor, lays on his back and inches his way under the bed. It's a tight fit, but he has no choice.

The door opens with a bang and Logan stumbles into the room. The light flickers on, the neon lights burn Steve's eyes.

Logan's phone bleeps.

"Hello," he slurs.

"What, yeah, maybe I had a little to drink…So what…"

"Sorry…I would've told you, but it was a last minute thing with the guys…"

"Babe, don't be mad. I miss you already Mia…I love you."

He ends the call.

Steve burns with rage. He knows the game his is playing, he is toying with an innocent girls emotions and he will pay.

Logan struggles to remove his boots and eventually gives up, falling back onto his bed.

Steve waits patiently until he hears gentle snores. Only then does he pull himself from under the bed. He stands over Logan and looks at him with disdain. He raises his fists, but resists the urge to strike him. It's a military base after all, and someone may hear. He stares out the window for several minutes as he controls his breathing. Once he feels calm he reaches into his pocket and removes a vial. Holding it up to the light of the moon that filters through the window, he begins to gently shake it.

An evil grin spreads across his face as he unscrews the top, squeezes the bulb of the dropper and sucks up the liquid. Standing over Logan, being careful not to block the light that falls across his face, he gently opens his mouth and puts in the dropper.

Logan stirs and begins to rise, but Steve squeezes and the liquid goes into his mouth. Logan begins to spit as his springs to his feet and shoves Steve hard to the ground.

"What have you done to me, what is this shit. Who the fuck are you?"

Steve jumps up and tackles Logan, placing one hand over his mouth and the other behind his head. They fall back on the bed. Logan struggles and manages to free himself from the man's grip.

He turns to face his attacker, his eyes grow wide. "Wait," he gasps, "I know you…you're that guy…"

Steve lands a hard punch to Logan's face, knocking him out. He sits by his side, listening closely to his breath, and after a few labored gasps and convulsions he stops breathing.

Steve bends, collects the vial and shoves it into his pocket. He then stands and straightens his clothes. After making a quick check of the room, using a small pen flashlight, he carefully pulls the plastic baggy from his jacket and retrieves a few strands of hair, placing them atop Logan's lifeless body. He sighs in relief, thankful he did not have to use his pistol.

He creeps toward the door and listens for a moment, and hears nothing. He leaves feeling satisfied. One less asshole to deal with and one step closer to Mia's heart.


	19. Chapter 19

**19**

My eyes sting from crying, I can't stop since hearing about Logan's death from Katie. It is all the talk on the base, and as of yet the cause of death is not known.

"I saw the AFOSI…droves of them," I snivel as I sit on my bed, legs drawn close, rocking back and forth.

"Yeah, well, a murder has happened, Mia," says Katie, making her voice as soothing as she can.

My eyes grow wide and I say, "Murder? Are they certain?"

Katie sighs heavily. "I heard it from a friend at the scene, but there was no blood or obvious wounds." She shrugs her shoulders and takes a step closer to me. "This is just between you and me, Ok?"

I nod my head, then stare off into the room, ignoring the pain that throbs in my head from all the crying.

"Maybe he had a heart condition or something…I mean…who'd possibly want Logan dead?" I look up at her with large, pitiful eyes.

Katie sits beside me and begins to gently rub my back. "Look Mia, Logan was not the most popular guy. He was an asshole sometimes…I don't know…most upper classmen are…the only people I can think of" – she hesitates, but I look at her, my eyes imploring – "Maybe…well…one of your boyfriends...or ex-boyfriends…or whatever."

"No," I whisper, "They'd have to get on base." I shake my head, the thought too painful to imagine. Ben's a smart guy, a detective, surely he could sneak his way on base, but no, he wouldn't do that, impossible. And Logan was already in California. "No," I continue, "It had to be someone here…on base."

Katie looks at me thoughtfully, wisps back the bangs that fall in her eyes as says, "Carol?"

My eyes light-up and I turn to Katie, my expression serious. "Ya know, she did really have it for me…I mean she wanted him, it's possible. I bet that bitch did it!"

I spring to my feet and begin to pace, my heart beating so fast it feels like it's going to pop.

"Calm down, Mia…the air force specialists are going to investigate and ask questions and discover who did this."

I gasp as a selfish thought suddenly strikes me. "Does this mean-" I gulp hard "-that they are going to know about our relationship?"

"Most likely Mia, but relax. It's not like either one of you is married," says Katie as she leaves.

Feeling like an insensitive bitch, I return to my bed and continue to cry. I close my eyes tight and picture Logan's square jaw, hazel eyes and hedge-hog hair. Then I think about how much I enjoyed making love to him. My heart sinks and I feel sick to my stomach. What if he was the right man? How am I going to move on without him? I realize that I did have feelings for him, deep feelings, and now they will remain unresolved. I imagine his face floating inches from my own, a smile spread across his cheeks, his charming, seductive smile that I will forever remember. The pain is practically unbearable. I give in and sob wildly

Katie leaves, giving me space, and after a while, I sit up and rub my snotty nose with my shirt sleeve. I wipe the tears from my eyes, pull out my phone, and read the last message I sent him.

'I love you Logan.'

I wasn't sure I meant it at the time, sending it more out of guilt, but the ache in my heart is undeniable; my love for him was real. He never responded, leading me to believe he was dead before he had a chance to read it. I clutch my chest, willing the pain that rises inside to subside. Please, I think to myself, please tell me he read this message. He needed to know that I did love him as much as he loved me.

With great hesitation and a trembling finger I delete the message, knowing Logan would have wanted me to.

"Okay they bagged the body," says the burly man in military fatigues, bursting at the seams.

"Well, what do you think we have here Sullivan?" asks another specialist, calling his superior officer by his first name, a familiarity they share with each other when no one else is around.

"It's hard to say at this point." He stops to take a breath, as if his clothes are slowly strangling him. "We have a fit young man, as far as we know, lying face up, fully dressed. I gathered by the smell of his breath that he went out last night to celebrate something."

"I suppose he was too drunk to get undressed."

"Maybe, Tyler, but we can't assume anything. We'll have to wait until the autopsy and the lab results get back."

He hesitates a moment then says, "I notice the furniture is moved, like there was a struggle."

"Yes, the first guys on the scene noticed that too," says Tyler.

Sullivan begins to walk around the room, huffing as he looks for clues. Standing by the window, the light hits the floor at such an angle that something catches his eye.

Tyler creeps up to his side and follows his eyes. "What we got here Sullivan?"

Sullivan rests a hand on the nearby bed and laboriously bends to his knees.

"Scuff marks, no military man would ever leave a mark on his floor, especially a man of his caliber."

He leans forward into the table position and peeks under the bed and releases a small, triumphant laugh.

"What is it?" inquires Tyler, very excited over his first forensic case.

"Well, more scuff marks." He makes and effort to get to his feet and finds himself out of breath, as if he has been running a marathon.

"That tells me that someone was quick to scoot under this bed and wait for his victim." He slaps his hands together and rubs them furiously in delight.

"How can you be so certain?" asks Tyler skeptically.

"I don't know for certain, but I bet I'm right. I also noticed a contusion on the victim's face, someone hit him. Who knows it may've been a bar room fight, but I also saw some bruising around the mouth, as if someone had put a hand over his face, possibly -"

"Captain Ballou, you look like you're gonna have a heart attack," bellows a man as he enters the room.

Sullivan forces a chuckle, clears his throat, salutes the officer, and steps away from the towering figure of solid muscle.

"I keep telling you if you don't lose any weight they're gonna boot you out of the air force." says the man with a laugh.

Sullivan bites he tongue, knowing he can't tell off a superior officer, but he is incensed by the lack of respect he shows him in front of his trainee. He knows he would out rank him, if only he could keep his weight under control, but he is haunted by the deaths he investigates. People just don't know how many there are in the air force, and he takes every case personal, and when he cannot solve a crime, he resorts to food. It makes him happy, it helps him relax, it helps him think and solve cases.

"Sir, what we have here, I think, is a murder."

"A murder," returns the man surprised. "We can't let that get out. We'll keep it quiet until we hear back from the autopsy."

"Of course, Sir."

"But why murder? It's my understanding the body was intact."

Sullivan shares the clues he found, but he seems unconvinced.

"Well, Sir, I did examine the body, and well, I've only ever seen one case of this before…" He stops, reaches into his pocket, pulls out a handkerchief and begins to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

"Get on with it Major, you're usually right about these things." He crosses his arms and stares at Sullivan with deep, penetrating eyes.

"Well, his skin had a reddish hue to it, and like I said, I've only seen that once before. I believe this man was poisoned."

"Positioned," says the baffled Colonel. "With what?"

"Cyanide, Sir."

"Hmm, I'll be sure they test for it back at the lab," He raises a finger to his lip and is silent for a moment, then continues. "Now get together a list of names of people who knew him and see if you can find out who'd want him dead."

"Yes Sir." responds a pleased Sullivan, thinking he might be overweight, but he's the best crime solver they've got.

The Colonel turns to leave, stops and shouts back, "Good job officer."

It has been a few days since Logan's death and it is my turn for an interview. I squirm in a large, stiff chair, my elbows nervously teetering on the edges of the armrests. The conference room in which I wait is quiet, cold and barren. Every so often I look at the closed door, cock my head and listen hard. Finally the handle comes to life and in lumbers a portly man along with a larger, muscular man. I spring to my feet and salute.

"Hello, Lieutenant Barton," says the fat man. "I'm Major Sullivan Ballou and this is-"

"Colonel Lewis Powell." He extends a large hand, directing me to a chair. "Please be seated."

After a moment of uncomfortable pause, I sit back in the oversized chair, and the men take seats on the opposite side of table that is between us.

Sullivan clears his throat, and through labored breath asks me what my relationship was with Logan.

"He was my commander," I say, hoping the tremble in my voice is only in my imagination.

"So that's it then?" He looks at me with distrusting eyes. "Honesty is expected in the air force."

I take a deep breath. "Well, he was my commander, I'm being honest." – My voice rises – "If you've something to ask me, then ask." I wish I could take back my words as the fat man's face contorts and turns red.

"Well then," he leans forward, rests his elbows on the table and begins to tap his sausage fingers together, "how long were you having an affair with him?"

My heart drops. "An affair? We were in a relationship." I slide my hands under my thighs, hoping to stop trembling.

Sullivan chuckles and says, "No Mia, an affair. Logan was a married man." A smile breaks across his plump face. "He not only leaves behind a wife, but a small child." His eyes sparkle with pleasure only a sadist could feel.

The blood drains from my face, and my body grows cold. It takes an enormous amount of effort to keep my teeth from chattering. And although my body goes numb, my brain is on fire.

_Fooled by another asshole! When are you going to learn! _

I sit, fuming, stunned, and unable to speak.

"You didn't know," says Colonel Powell, interrupting the painful silence. "I can see that, Mia, but you have to answer our questions."

"Of course," I say, unable to make eye contact. "It started right away, actually."

"It seems that he was having relationships with many women, Mia. Did you have any idea?"

I look up, Colonel Powell's eyes are deep with compassion, and Major Ballou's glassy like a snakes.

Feelings of insecurity and wrong doing overwhelm me, but in a split second I convince myself that I have done nothing wrong, and with that let the anger that floats just beneath my shy, innocent, broken soul rise up and erupt.

I pitch forward, and in barely contained fury say, "No, I had no idea. In fact, I thought he really loved me. Turns out he was a pig after all." I take a breath, then plunge on. "I'm glad you're enjoying yourself Major."

I fall back in my seat, arms crossed.

"Be careful how you address a superior officer, Mia," says Major Ballou in a controlled voice.

"I think we have enough information, thank you Major. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to spend a little time with Lieutenant Barton…alone." He looks at Sullivan and then the door.

The fat man presses his palms against the table, making the furniture moan under the strain of his weight, as he rises to his feet. His face is beet red and his expression sour as he leaves in a huff.

"Mia, I'm sorry we had to spring it upon you like this. You didn't know, did you?"

"No, I didn't, Sir." I stare back at him with angry eyes.

"No need for formalities Mia. Call me Lewis." He reaches across the table and grabs my cold, limp hand.

My heart pulses and I feel tingly under his firm, masculine grip. My immediate urge is to withdraw from his touch, but I fear what he may do if I reject him.

"Look, Lewis, if you're trying to get my guard down to get me to admit to something, don't bother. I'm telling you the truth okay. I wasn't sure if I loved him, but I felt certain he loved me, and I wanted to give us a chance. I had no idea he was seeing other women. He hid it very well. I didn't know he was married either."

My heart feels like it is being ripped out of my chest, and it takes all my effort to choke back the tears that threaten to overwhelm me.

"Mia, I'm not trying to trick you," he sighs, leans forward and squeezes my hand harder. "I'm trained in detecting deception and I know you're telling the truth. We've spoken to some of the others and they've told us he was into some…shall we say…interesting stuff." He raises a brow and grins.

I yank away my hand, cup my face and begin to sob.

Lewis creeps to my side, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"So now I have to go into the details of my sex life," I quake. "This is so embarrassing. I won't do it." I look upon him with tearful, yet defiant eyes.

"No, I spared you that when I sent Sullivan away. The other women told me, though, that he had distanced himself from them once he found you. So he probably did have feelings for you."

I wipe the tears from my eyes; turn to Lewis and say, "Still…he was married. How can I believe anything he told me?"

"He was separated Mia."

"Why…why did you make it seem like something worse?" My confused eyes meet his.

"We have to Mia; it's our job to discover the truth."

I understand, but still feel angry by their blatant disregard for my feelings.

He places a hand on my knee, making me jump. He chuckles, and I look up, feeling my face flush as I meet his eyes. But something is different this time. The compassion has left, replaced with lust. Yes, I know that look very well now, and although my heart mourns Logan, I cannot stop the beautiful feeling that ripples through my body, making my skin prickle. I inhale his sweet, clean scent and gaze deep into his chocolate brown eyes. His hair is cropped short, just the way I like it. He is the picture of military perfection and his virility excites me.

Without thought I place my hand atop his and he bursts with a brilliant smile. He makes a move to grab me, pull me into his arms and devour me, but stops. We both know it's neither the time nor place. His sheer size makes my imagination go wild with thoughts of rough, pleasurable, kinky sex.

I remove my hand and look away, ashamed of myself. Logan has been murdered and here I am already finding a replacement. Now is my chance to put all of this behind me and focus on Mitch, the man I truly love. I cannot, will not, put myself in another love triangle.

My heart races as I wait for his next move.

"Meet me tonight off base," says Lewis.

"I…I can't do this," I say, instantly hating the whiny quality I hear in my own voice.

"Mia, why not, I like you and you like me." His eyes sparkle with sinister delight.

"Because Logan has been murdered and I just found out he had girlfriends and a wife, and who knows what else. I'm not exactly in the mood for a relationship." I shoot back in a tone that makes him flinch.

"Mia, I can help you," he says softly. "You're in a great deal of trouble here, having admitted to having an UPR."

"UPR?" I ask.

A smug smile spreads across his face. "An unprofessional relationship."

I am silent for a moment, as I fully absorb the weight of his comment.

"So, if I don't date you…you'll throw me under the bus?" I ask incredulously.

"Of course not Mia," he says. "I'm just saying we can help each other out, nothing more. No relationship…I'm not asking for that. You don't want a relationship, right?"

I gulp hard. "I…I don't want a relationship. So you just want a casual fling then?" I ask as I scold myself for considering his proposition.

"Exactly, but if you need time to get your emotions in check, then by all means do that. I'm not a monster demanding anything from you." He reaches out, dwarfing my hands in his. His size makes that pesky feeling of lust once again rear its ugly head. "We have to be on the same page Mia, I want you to do this only if you want to."

I know I have no choice, he is blackmailing me, but is bent on making it seem like I have a say. To reject him would be stupid. As I sit in silence weighing my options, Lewis clears his throat and says, "We did discover one interesting fact, Mia. Logan had been out drinking that night, did you know that?"

I look at him, trying to read where he is going with this and simply nod my head.

"Well he was out partying with another officer" – My eyes widen and he continues, "A female."

My brow furrows and I ask, "Who? I want to know who?"

He shakes his head, but I grab hold of his hands, jerking them. "Who," I demand.

"Carol," he returns with a sigh.

My breath catches in my throat and I bury my face in my hands, refusing to let him see me cry. He knew this would devastate me, but I know it's the truth. I felt it all along. Carol and I were both vying for his love, but he hid it from me. I wonder if he played her like he did me. He did, I finally convince myself, she knew it and that is why she confronted me. She is a lot smarter than me, damn it, that bitch. I wipe away my tears, push my hands through my hair and look at Lewis with crazy eyes.

"Are you lying to me?" I ask with a somber voice.

"No, Mia. I don't want you to think Logan was someone special. He wasn't. He played a lot of women. Everyone knew it." His voice rings genuine.

"So how'd he get away with it?"

"He came with strong recommendations. He tested well, was smart, the top of the top, it was overlooked, tolerated."

I release the breath that is trapped in my lungs, convinced that all men are pigs, all men except Mitch. I figure why not act out of my sexual desires, why not use them like they use me. Like Katie said, 'just keep your emotions in check.'

I straighten up in my chair, clear my throat and say, "Text me."

"I can't, not while you're under investigation." He removes a small notebook from his jacket, scribbles on a page, tears it out and hands it to me. "This is my address. I live off base, can you get there?"

"I have no car," I say, suddenly feeling very unsure about this impromptu rendezvous.

"I'll have Airman Averell pick you up….say around seven?"

I nod my head. He grabs me by the shoulders, squeezes and moves in closer. I feel like I am in the grip of a giant, and find myself unable to dash out the lust that takes over me. My eyes drift to his crotch as I try to imagine if the part fits the whole. I look up when Lewis clears his throat. A smile spreads over his face and his eyes radiate a hunger, a carnal desire that makes me shudder with excitement. I release an uncomfortable giggle, then place my hands on his chest, absorbing the bulk under his uniform. Pushing away from him, I rise to my feet, and as I head out the door he calls after me not to be late.

When I return to my room, Katie is there sitting on her bed and chewing her nails.

"Why're you smiling?" asks Katie as she looks upon me with nervous eyes.

"Well, the interview went well. I don't think they believe I had anything to do with it…which I didn't," I return, savoring the thought of playing Colonel Powell as much, if not more than he plans on playing me.

I lie on my bed and stare blankly at the ceiling. Even though Logan is dead and probably never really loved me, despite what the Colonel said, I cannot dash the guilt that wells up inside of me for having lustful feelings for a new man so soon. It's wrong, I know, but it's an unbridled sexual desire that only the strongest people can control, and I am weak.

I sabotage myself with thoughts of how nothing has changed for me. I promised not to jump into a new relationship after Ben, but I did and now my heart is broken, and I find myself falling into another trap. Not a love trap, but something far worse. Sex for silence. That is what it is, no matter how I want to paint it. I beat myself emotionally for all of my mistakes, but the pride I feel for dumping Ben, takes away some of the sting. It gives me hope and determination to cast aside shy, meek, pathetic Mia and release the cold, hard grown-up me.

Katie interrupts my thoughts. "Mia, I'm sorry they asked me a lot of questions about you and I had to tell them about those other men. I hope you're not mad."

I lift up on my elbows. "Did they ask or did you volunteer?"

"They asked me…so…I hate to say it, but you're still a suspect….and your boyfriends are too."

My eyes narrow with rage, and just when I open my mouth to speak Katie starts to cry and says, "They know I'm gay." She flings herself back on her bed, releasing a string of obscenities.

"What does that mean?" I ask.

"It means a military discharge."

My anger drains from me like an unplugged sink. "Gee, I'm so sorry Katie, really I am."

"Well, that's what I get for rooming with a virgin nymph turned whore," she says with acridity.

"That's unfair Katie, I'm not a whore. I didn't plan to fall in love with two men and have to run from another." I try to control my tone, understanding that Katie is very upset and doesn't mean what she says. "So does this mean you're out?"

"I don't know yet, it depends on the Colonel…I never admitted to anything really, but I do have an alibi, but unfortunately a female alibi, and unless I tell them they'll dig further into my business and that would be far worse..."

"Colonel?" I say as I sit-up. "Colonel Powell?"

"Yes, Mia, didn't you meet with him today," she says with a loss of patience.

"Yes, I did," I say absently, thinking it is my responsibility now to save Katie form a humiliating discharge.

"What's gotten into you?" She asks as she glowers at me with tear stained cheeks.

"Nothing, Katie," I say with an upbeat tone. "Relax nothing is going to happen to you." - And just as she goes to open her mouth, I cut her off - "I promise. Just trust me on this one."

Katie springs to her feet and rushes toward me. "What are you going to do?" she asks, her eyes pleading with me as much as her voice.

"It doesn't matter Katie, just trust me, ok?" I make my look as equally severe as hers, and she steps away.

Katie turns to the door, looks back over her shoulder, and before she leaves, says, "I meet with them again tomorrow. That doesn't give you much time."

I sigh heavily and rub my temples.

_Think, think, think Mia. You've made the commitment, now what are you going to do?_

It's dangerous, but I decide I am going to have to play it by ear. Being manipulative is not in my character, but it is something I am going to have to learn to master. My promise to Katie forces me to spring into immediate action, and tonight will be my opportunity.

I take a deep breath and clear my mind of what looms ahead. My phone beeps on my nightstand. I open it and there are several text messages from Mitch, asking where I have been, telling me he loves me, and how much he wants to make love to me.

"Ugh," I mumble as I fling the phone to the side.

The stress from the day is building and I feel like I am going to break.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

I stand outside his front door, hiding in the shadows of the overgrown shrubs that frame his house. After brushing back my hair and straightening my clothes, which I get the feeling I won't be wearing for long, I lift a trembling finger and press the doorbell.

The outside lights flick on, burning my eyes, giving me the urge to flee, like a frightened animal some where it shouldn't be.

The door opens wide and Lewis greets me with a half-empty glass of wine. "Come in Mia, have a drink," he says as he tilts his hand back in an inviting manner.

I follow him into a sparsely furnished great room. The furniture is cheap, but well kept. A lack of femininity is apparent, making me certain this one, at least, is not married. All decorations are military related. A framed air force emblem hangs on the wall behind the sofa where I sit, and the table in front displays an array of crystal military planes. In the middle is a bottle of wine in a chiller, and next to it a glass that Lewis fills, then hands to me.

"Cheers," he says as he takes a gulp and sits next to me, creating an incline that causes me to slide toward him.

I grasp the long stemmed glass with both hands and take a large sip. My throat constricts and my hands tremble. Wanting to relax, I guzzle the wine quickly.

"Seconds?" asks Lewis with a half-smile.

I nod my head and watch with excitement as his large hands wrap around the wine bottle. I drink quickly and lift my glass for another, but he refuses, telling me that he wants me sober. I realize I want to be somewhat sober too when dealing with him.

Lewis sets our glasses on the table, then rises to his feet, grabs my hand and pulls me into his chest. I feel like a little girl, trapped in the arms of a giant. I throw my arms around his neck and begin to kiss him. One of his large hands holds me firm behind the back while the other gropes at my breasts, and his tongue darts in and out of my mouth. He makes a move to sweep his arms under me, but I resist. He turns his eyes, boring into me, and then he smiles.

"What's wrong, Mia?" he asks.

I push my disheveled hair behind my ears, flash him my most seductive smile and say, "Well now Colonel what's the hurry?"

A flicker of uncertainty crosses his face, his smile drooping, but then, as if he is convinced I am only teasing him, he grabs me, folding me into his arms.

I push back against his solid chest with arms that feel like noodles against his impressive strength. He releases his hold on me.

"Mia," he says in a low, controlled voice, "There's no need to play games here, we have an understanding."

Something about his condescending tone irritates me, but I don't show it, being able to masterfully control my expressions when under the influence.

"Yes, we do have an understanding, but I'd like to iron it out first," I say coyly as I fall back on the sofa, placing an arm behind my head.

"Okay," he says with uncertainty as he plops down next to me. He rests his elbows on his knees and entwines his fingers. He turns to me with burning eyes.

"Well, I am going to help you by having a no strings attached relationship, right?" I say and then trace a finger down his leg, moving in behind his arm, edging close to his crotch.

He gulps hard, smiles and says, "Yes, and you get a relationship with no strings as well."

"But I already have a relationship," I say, knowing full well Katie has already told him about Mitch. "And you said you'd help me, obviously with my situation here with the UPR."

"Of course, He says, "I plan to play it off like Logan was hot for you, but you rejected his advances. I thought that was settled," he says with a waver in his voice, making it clear he understands that I am asking for more.

"But why me anyway?" I ask. "I'm sure you can have any woman you want." My smile drops from my face and I straighten up, becoming more serious. It's not the demeanor I had hoped for, but the sensitive, wondering Mia pops out.

He falls back against the sofa cushions, shifts his gaze to the floor and says, "Because Mia, Logan was into a lifestyle that most women could not accept, or who didn't want to play by his rules. He was crazy about you, no doubt in my mind about that." He takes a deep breath and pauses.

"So you want me to fulfill your every fantasy, like I willingly did for Logan?" I interject, ignoring the pain that fills my chest over the thought that Logan had really cared for me.

He nods his head, then looks upon me with a glimmer of lust, mingled with deceit. "Well, yeah…you are the perfect slave."

I break my eye lock with him and look toward the window. The curtains are drawn shut and I suddenly feel trapped in a world which I am not sure I belong. Anger rises inside of me at the realization that Logan never planned for me to take control, he only told me what I wanted to hear because he knew I would oblige his every desire, hoping that next time would be my turn. I grind my teeth and turn back to face Lewis.

"What you fail to realize is that Logan and I had an agreement for shared control, but I am willing to do anything you want, if you do me favors." I can feel the strain in my face and curse myself for having not drunk more.

Perspiration begins to bead on his forehead and his eyes turn cold, "So you're going to dictate to me what you want in exchange for sex?" He asks as he springs from the sofa and begins to pace the room. "I am willing to do anything within reason to help you out Mia, even despite the fling. I…I don't want you to think it's completely about sex. I like you and want to help you. I know you weren't involved in Logan's death..."

"Now, Colonel, I wouldn't want you to do anything you don't want to," I say with as soothing a voice as possible, still burning with anger over his earlier insistence on a relationship built on mutual interest. "All I'm asking is that in return for complete control…you do me a few small favors…nothing more."

His eyes turn distrustful. "Okay," he says, practically in a whisper. "I understand that you're upset," – A small chuckle escapes him – "by my earlier comment about the UPR and how I can help you. I admit, it sounded like I wasn't giving you a choice. I'm sorry, Mia." He runs a hand over his head and his expression morphs into one of regret.

The room falls uncomfortably silent as I try to decide how to proceed.

He races over to me, sits by my side and grabs my hand. "Mia, I truly mean it, I only want to do this if you do. You…you're attracted to me aren't you?"

I flash my eyes on him momentarily, then look down. He squeezes my hand, making me feel very much like a munchkin in his grip. I nod my head, unable to utter a simple yes, but not because I am being dishonest, but because I know he is lying to me.

I brush away my feelings of anger, burst with a smile, rise to my feet and begin to remove my top. He gazes intently upon me, his eyes focusing on my breasts as they bulge in the hold of my push-up bra. Once again he rises from the sofa, looming over me. He lunges forward, grabbing me, jerking me off balance and before I have time to react, he drags me into his bedroom.

A large king bed takes up most of the space in the small room. Above it is a mirror and from the walls hang chains an array of whips, and toys. In one corner dangles a very inviting sex swing. I find myself instantly turned on and cannot wait to feel the enormity I expect from Lewis, but I must ensure a favor from him first.

"I…I need to ask you a favor," I say as Lewis slowly pulls at the buttons on his shirt, revealing his hairy, muscular chest.

"Okay, Mia what is it," he sighs as if I am ruining his fantasy.

"My roommate…she has nothing to do with Logan's murder," I say, suddenly anxious.

"Who's your roommate again," he asks as he slips off his pants.

"Katie."

"Ok, I don't suspect her anyway, but she still needs to undergo another round of questioning."

"She has an alibi…but her alibi is another woman," I say, causing him to momentarily stop removing his clothes.

"Okay, I get it Mia, she's gay and you don't want her to get booted out of the Air Force." He smiles as if I asked a ridiculously small favor. "Consider it done."

I breathe a sigh of relief. He casts his boxers aside and rushes toward me. He gently unhooks my bra, pushes me back on the bed and begins to kiss me passionately on the lips, then moves down my neck. I begin to spread my legs, even though the weight of his body, pressing against mine, makes it nearly impossible.

"I am going to have a lot of fun with you," he says in a tone that sends shivers up and down my spine. I open my eyes and see all the sex toys of the walls, some of which I am familiar and others not. "I want to tie you up and spank you until you bleed."

I gasp and try to wiggle from under his massive weight. A sob escapes me and I beg him to stop.

Lewis rolls off me, and I take a deep breath, as if a giant weight has been lifted from my chest. He scratches his head, and instead of being angry as I expected, he seems confused.

"Mia, I'd never do anything to hurt you. In fact, I want our first night together to be about getting to know one another, if that makes you more comfortable."

"It does," I admit, feeling foolish for trying to be a vixen. "I…I am willing to try anything, but need time to get comfortable with you."

"Okay," he says as he pushes the hair from my face. "Sometimes I get carried away and divulge my fantasies, but if you're not ready yet, I understand."

I reach up to his face and rub his rough cheeks. Its sandpapery feel turns me on and I find myself reaching behind his head, pulling him closer. We begin to kiss passionately. I move my palms down to his broad shoulders, the muscles tensing from holding his own weight as he floats above me, nibbling my neck. I push gently down, and as if reading my cue, he moves lower, planting kisses on my abdomen. He gets on his knees and tugs off my pants and underwear. Grabbing me by the hips, he pulls me forward and plants his mouth between my legs. I arch back and begin to moan as his tongue gently plays with my clitoris. He sucks and then raps at it harder, and just when I think I'm getting close to climax, he goes gentle again, teasing me. He glides a finger into my vagina, bringing my excitement to a higher level. And then he adds another finger and moves them in a gentle circular motion as he pushes them deeper inside. I can feel my face flush as a wave of pleasure washes over me and I climax.

When I finish he buries his face deeper into my crotch and raps my clitoris hard with his tongue, making me shudder. I push his head away and he laughs as he throws himself next to me and begins to stroke my abdomen.

"Did I hurt you Mia?" he asks with a smile.

"No," I whisper and place a hand on his cheek. "What about you?" I stare at his fully erect penis that looks like a missile. I reach for it, but he springs from the bed.

"I'll be right back," he says with a touch of excitement in his voice.

I lift on my elbows, feeling nervous, when he returns with a can of shaving cream and a razor. He pushes me back and sprays my pubic area with the cream.

"I like it smooth, so I can really feel it," he says as he begins to pull the razor over my patch of cropped pubic hair.

"Ok," I say with a giggle, "although I'm certainly not worried about feeling it."

His face turns serious as he removes all the hair. Then, he gently spreads my legs and shaves my labia. Casting the razor aside he rolls on top of me and penetrates me. His penis slides in slowly as my vagina expands to meet its enormous width. I retract my legs, spreading wide as he thrusts me with such force that I feel momentary pain as his penis strikes my cervix. I spread even wider, beckoning him to thrust again. Pain then pleasure, I wish it never to stop. He begins to bang even harder and quicker and I struggle not to climax as I wait for him. When I feel the timing is just right I let myself go. Lewis' breath is rapid and hot in my ear and a throaty moan escapes him. I cry out in a splendid mixture of pleasure and pain as we orgasm together.

Lewis rolls off to my side and wipes his forehead with the back of his hand. My racing heart pounds in my ears, and I begin to shiver.

"Are you cold?" asks Lewis.

I nod and cross my arms. Lewis drags himself out of bed, rummages in a closet and returns with a blanket that he drapes over me.

"It's getting late. I'll call Airman Averell to take you back to base."

He pulls on his boxer shorts, leaves the room briefly, then returns to my side.

"Lewis, did you know about Logan's lifestyle?" Now that we've been intimate I feel comfortable in asking him the questions that have been burning in my mind since the interview.

"I didn't know until I began investigating his death. I gathered names of all the women he'd been with and discovered his lifestyle from them."

"What made you certain I'd play the role of slave?"

"Because you're the one he wanted. He had his choice of women, not that you're not gorgeous, but you were the one. That's when I knew you're a great sub."

I prop up on my elbows and turn to him in disbelief. "So you really think I want to be dominated?"

"Mia, you were so quiet sitting there in the interview, and scared. I knew right away...Now don't give me that look." He reaches up and strokes my cheek. "I can see you've got a fiery side and that's fine, we can explore that together too."

"What if I want to be in charge? I'd like to crack you with a whip," I say, trying not to feel angry over his condescending tone.

"Mia, baby, I can't wait for you to spank the hell out of me." His face burst with a smile that makes my heart skip a beat.

He pulls me back down and begins to kiss me with a rough passion that sets my thighs on fire. I want to be mad, I want to talk about the relationship he expects to have with me, and I want to know what happened to Logan. Making a feeble attempt to resist him from taking me again, I relent when he penetrates me, and thrusts with a force that makes my teeth rattle.

"Mia, when you're ready I want us role play." He says after he finishes and rolls to the side.

I silently contemplate his remark, but my mind goes back to Logan.

"I don't know…I guess I'm feeling a bit guilty. I never knew I had a taste for this lifestyle until I met Logan. I feel like I'm cheating on him." I begin to cry, the tears I had been holding back all night finally flowing.

"Oh, Mia, I understand," he says with a conciliatory voice. "I know I shouldn't be telling you this, but Logan was poisoned."

"Poisoned?" I whisper and shoot upright.

"I shouldn't have told you," he says as he rises on his elbows and meets my gaze. "That's why I shouldn't drink." He releases a heavy sign and continues, "Mia, you can't tell anyone about this, it could be very bad for me."

"Of course," I say, nodding my head, more in shock than agreement.

He grabs my arm, and pulls me on top of him as he falls back on the bed. I rest my head on his chest and listen to the smooth rhythmic beating of his heart.

He plays with my hair. "Mia, I hope you can trust me now."

"I do," I whisper, realizing he has shared a little, alleviating my fears, only to be replaced with feelings of guilt for being so guarded.

"I know you're feeling burned by Logan, that's why I wanted to be straight with you."

I lift my head, kiss his warm, soft lips and thank him. His large hands move up and down my back, comforting me. As I close my eyes and begin to nod off, I am startled back to full consciousness when a thought suddenly strikes me.

"What is it?" asks Lewis as I lift my head with a slight jerk.

"I almost forgot," I say softly and roll off him, sitting upright. "I received a strange text message before Logan was killed."

Lifting up on his elbows, his eyes questioning, he asks, "What did it say?"

"Pay back is hell." I manage to push out before the sob that follows gets stuck in my throat.

Lewis sits bolt upright and asks who sent it.

"It said anonymous," I say, "but I am certain it was from the killer…I…I mean I don't know for sure, but it's a feeling I have." I bury my face in my hands and begin to sob wildly. "It's because of me that Logan is dead."

Lewis folds me in his arms and begins to rock me. "Mia, it's not your fault. It is good that you told me. Who do you think would've wanted him dead?"

"I'm not sure," I lie, not wanting to implicate Ben, while Carol is still hot on my mind. "Maybe Carol? I've watched my fair share of forensic shows, isn't that something a woman would do?"

Lewis tips his head to the side, as if he is about to shake in disagreement, but stops himself.

A hesitation, then he says, "Mia, I'm going to have your phone records pulled and trace that message."

My heart leaps in my chest and my mind whirls with conflicting doubt and emotions. "But…those messages are personal…between me and Logan…" I look at him with large, imploring eyes.

He rises from the bed, grabs my hands, gently pulls me to my feet and says, "I know Mia…about the other men…I know about your lifestyle. Relax, okay, I have to do my job. After all, a man has been murdered and I know you want to find the killer as much as I do."

Before I can speak, the doorbell rings, startling me, making Lewis release a hearty laugh.

"A little jumpy? You need to get dressed and head back." He squeezes my shoulder hard.

I start pulling on my clothes, then ask, "What's with Airman Averell? Won't he tell on us?"

"No, he gets tipped well and he knows what'll happen if he doesn't keep a tight lip." His voice is reassuring and I let it go, having much deeper worries.

When I return to base I find Katie in bed, sitting up, covers pulled over her legs, biting her nails.

"Are you okay?" I ask as I undress and slip into a nightshirt.

"The meeting is tomorrow, Mia, did you take care of it like you said you would?" Her eyes dart nervously around the room.

"I did," I say.

"How did you do it?" Her usual jovial tone has disappeared and my silence only seems to aggravate her. "C'mon Mia, what're you up to?"

"Don't worry about it Katie," I say, feeling annoyed.

Katie shifts in her bed, and says, "You know Carol is a suspect, but they also found some hairs on the body, which they are analyzing." She looks at me with large, thoughtful eyes.

"Carol's hairs?" I ask.

"Maybe, but here's the kicker, Carol has long hair and the hair they found is short. Could be part of a hair, who knows?" She sits up, places her feet on the floor, and rests her head in her hands. "Of course, they say it could always have been a transfer from the bar Logan visited. At any rate they are going to compare it to all the people on the list."

I begin to chew the insides of my mouth as a terrible thought flashes through my mind. I sit upright and start to speak, but stop.

"How do you know all this?" I finally ask, trying to mask my suspiciously nervous behavior.

"Don't worry about Mia," She says with as much sarcasm as she can muster.

"Ok, I get it." My eyes begin to wander around the room, finally pausing on Katie. I can see she is determined to drive her point home. "Okay, but it's our secret…I mean you cannot tell anyone!"

"I won't, I won't," she says like an eager child.

"I'm having an affair with Colonel Lewis."

Katie's face drops as a look of horror, mixed with shock crosses her face. "Wow, that's some heavy shit! Are you nuts?" she asks.

I shake my head, as if this mere act with make the shame I feel disappear. "Never mind, how do you know about the hairs?"

"I'm good friends with one of the techs working the case." Her eyes glint mischievously, making it unnecessary for me to inquire about the extent of her relationship.

We promise to keep each other updated with any new information pertaining to the case, and also swear secrecy.

After I prepare for bed and crawl under the covers, I lie awake, wondering just how long the hairs are that they found. I cannot shake the thought that Ben is the killer. But is Ben capable of murder? He certainly is out of control, and I know I have not seen the last of him. And then I remember…how could I have forgotten? Ben was outside the hotel, watching as Logan and I left. It occurs to me that he did not follow us because he only wanted to confirm his suspicions of my affair…maybe he was planning out the murder, but why would he allow himself to be seen by me? As much as I want to blame Carol, I shelve my jealously and turn to the facts, concluding that Ben is in fact the killer. What if Mitch is next? My heart pounds out of control, and I resist the urge to race to my phone to call him. It'd look too suspicious. I'll call first thing in the morning.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

I grab my phone first thing in the morning, but hesitate, thinking it's too early to call Mitch. I have several missed calls from him, as well as text messages and as I read through them a gasp escapes me – his mother's surgery was yesterday and I had completely forgotten. Feelings of guilt seep into every cell of my body, burning like acid. How could I be so thoughtless? While I was out getting fucked by Lewis, Mitch was anxiously waiting in a hospital while his mother underwent surgery.

I set my phone on the nightstand, push my fingers through my hair and flop back on my bed. Maybe it's true, maybe I am a selfish, heartless person like my mother always told me. Maybe I am a sociopath like Ben occasionally told me. No, there was no choice in the matter. Lewis blackmailed me; he didn't mean it when he said I needed to be on board with him. But then I cannot deny the attraction I felt – feel – for him.

What if I don't play along with Lewis? Could I hide the truth from Mitch, that I was involved in an unprofessional relationship that resulted in the death of an airman, and my expulsion from the military?

My brain is a whirl of mixed emotions. I vowed I would not base my relationship with Mitch on lies. Maybe I should come clean and tell him.

"Hello-ooo," calls a distant voice, jolting me from my thoughts.

I look up to find Katie hovering over me with a towel and my toothbrush.

"You don't have a lot of time," she says, "and I rather you brush your teeth than your hair."

"Real funny," I retort as I snatch my toothbrush from her.

I pull myself together quickly and before I head out the door I look at the phone on my nightstand.

_I'll call him during lunch._

My flight is introduced to the new commander who, fortunately, spends more time picking on the more masculine men of the group than the women. After a few hours, Katie is called out, and I figure she is meeting with Colonel Powell. A wave of relief passes over me, knowing that she won't be kicked out of the air force.

When we finally break for lunch, I race back to the dormitory, but do not get far before I hear a rough, familiar voice. "Lt. Barton!"

I turn to see Colonel Powell quickly approaching me. I stand stock-still and salute him. He moves in close, and his stern face relaxes into a smile.

"You up for a little fun tonight?" he asks in a seductive tone that excites me.

I push back the feelings of lust that bubble inside me. "I don't think so," I say with conviction.

The smile leaves his face and then slowly returns as if he is certain I am only playing with him. "C'mon Mia, I won't do anything you don't want to." He reaches out to touch me, but then, as if remembering where we are, stops.

"Lewis…Colonel Powell," I say with a tremble in my voice. "I don't think we should do this. The fact is, I'm in love with someone and I don't want to do this to him."

"But it's no strings attached, Mia," he says with a low, controlled voice. "Besides we have to worry about that UPR."

I release an exasperated sigh and say, "I thought we both had to be on board, that's what you said." Realizing there is a waver in my voice, I get angry with myself. I should be able to stand my ground and not fall apart over every confrontation. I am doing the right thing.

"I don't think you understand," he says as he scowls in barely contained fury. "I want to see you tonight…or else."

"I don't care," I manage to push out as I cast my eyes away from his disapproving stare. "If you want to write me up for an UPR that's fine, just remember we had one of our own."

He chuckles in a low, sadistic way that sends chills up and down my spine. "You don't know who you're dealing with, Mia. You need to reconsider. Averell'll be waiting for you at seven."

I gather the courage to stare back at him albeit in utter disbelief. He takes a step to walk away, clears his throat loudly, breaking me from my trance like state. I stand tall and salute him, and then he finally walks away.

I return as quickly to my room as possible, barely able to control my feet from running. I bust through the door, collapse on my bed and begin to cry. After convincing myself that I have done the right thing, I pull myself up, wipe away my tears, grab my phone and dial Mitch.

"Mia, is that you?" asks Mitch.

"Yes…I'm so sorry I haven't called. Things have been so hectic here…there's so much going on…there's been no time for me to call," I babble on in a frenzy of guilt.

"Slow down Mia. Is everything ok?" His soothing voice has a hypnotic effect on me, making me more certain than ever he is the man for me.

I take a deep breath. "Enough about me how's your mother?"

"She's doing fine. She has a little trouble getting around, of course, but I'll have a home aide help her out after I leave."

My heart brims with happiness and aches with remorse. "You're such a good guy," I say as I try to muffle the sob that escapes me.

_Too good for you Mia._

"Mia, you're crying. What's going on? I…I knew something was wrong when I didn't hear from you."

"Mitch, there's been a murder on the base." My heart begins to race as I fight myself not to reveal my infidelity. "It was Logan McCoy, my flight commander."

"Are you serious?" he asks and the phone goes silent.

"Yes, Mitch…they're interviewing all of us and asking questions."

"Do they have any idea who did it?"

"Not yet, but they did find some hairs they're analyzing, that's all I know…but that's not public information yet."

"How was he murdered?"

"He was poisoned," I say as I try to push images of Logan's charming smile out of my mind.

"Poison, that seems odd...unusual."

"I…I know…I love you…I love you more than anything else in this world." My heart aches as I realize if he ever discovers my infidelity I may lose him forever.

"Me too, Mia, but…I'm worried about you being on base with no one to protect you."

I gulp hard, realizing he is right; Ben could come after me next. "I'm so scared Mitch and I…I don't want to go Japan. I feel so safe with you…I want to be with you forever."

Mitch sighs heavily in the phone, then clears his throat. "I'm starting my plan in motion…our plan Mia. I am making the move to California within the next couple of months."

"That's so soon," I say. "I want to be with you…help you."

"I know my love, but you have to fulfill your obligation to the air force." He hesitates, then continues. "Mia, sometimes when I don't hear from you…I wonder if you're slipping away-"

"Never Mitch," I cut in sharply. "No matter what I love you and I need you to know that."

"Okay, just…being apart I'd understand if you became curious…I mean there must be plenty of guys hitting on you." His voice rings with a sadness that makes me certain he knows I have been cheating.

_Impossible, Mia!_

"There are," I admit with a sigh, "but my heart belongs to you." I swallow hard, reassuring myself that I have stated the truth.

"Okay, Mia, I've got to go give my mother her meds. Call me and let me know how things are coming along with that murder, and be safe. I love you."

"Me too," I say.

I sit in silence for several minutes, wondering if I should have told him the truth about me and Logan, but then ultimately decide it is best to put the affair behind me. I start to fall deeper into thought when my stomach rumbles, bringing me back to my senses. Suddenly realizing I have limited time for lunch, I race off to the dining hall, gobble down my food and return to training.

When I meet up with my flight, I notice Katie is not present. I look around at the other members of the group, but they ignore me. It occurs to me that they know there was something between me and Logan and do not want to be associated with someone potentially involved in a murder.

We enter the classroom building and I endure another boring class about military history. When it finally ends, the instructor pulls me away from my flight and tells me that Major Joseph Johnston needs to see me in his office. My heart sinks and my body trembles as I force my legs to carry me to the next building.

When I find the Major's office, I stand outside; wondering if this has something to do with Katie. Maybe she told him about my affair with the Colonel, but then wouldn't someone with higher rank call me in? I take a deep breath, straighten my uniform, step in front of the entrance, and just as I lift my hand to knock, his eyes shift from his desk to me. I salute.

"Lt. Barton, please enter," he says in a low voice.

I step inside and start to feel dizzy, realizing I am holding my breath. When he instructs me to take a seat, I practically collapse in the chair, fold my hands in my lap, and work hard not to tremble.

"Mia, I've called you in because there's a problem with your performance."

A wave of shock ripples through me, and I feel my mouth fall slightly open. The Major flips through some papers on his desk, my file, I presume, and shakes his head. I know I have the highest grades in my classes, and have been performing as expected in my drills.

"Seems like your leadership skills are lacking." He looks up, his eyes boring into me.

I release the breath I have been holding, and ease back a little in my chair. "I don't understand," I say, figuring my flight has been ignoring me because of my involvement with Logan, and now that he is gone the new commander has taken notice.

"Mia, at the air force, leadership is extremely important. As an officer you're expected to be able to take command and lead people…our men, especially in the time of war."

I try not to roll my eyes, as if I would ever be asked to lead in the time of war. "I'm sorry; I'm at a loss Major. Where I have I failed exactly?"

He releases an annoyed sigh, as if I am acting intentionally dense. "Mia, members of your flight has voiced their concerns about you to your new commander, Lt. Bragg."

"What're their concerns?" I ask with a low voice, afraid of how he may respond.

"They're of the impression that you were having a UPR with Lt. McCoy, and because of that, your inability to work in a team environment was …shall we say…overlooked?"

"I wasn't aware of this," I lie. "Frankly, I'm shocked, hurt…no offended that anyone would even suggest such a thing." It takes all my effort to look him in the eye, which I must do in order to convince him of my innocence.

He takes a pause to stare me in the eye, a look of disbelief sweeping across his face. I realize right then that everyone knows about my affair with Logan, and probably the details of our intimacy. Apparently it is okay for a well-liked man to have some indiscretions, but now that he is gone, well, the women are fair game. My mind roils with anger and I can feel the heat rise to my face.

The Major clears his throat, recapturing my full attention. "This meeting is informal, Mia and serves as a warning to you to straighten your act. You'll be an upperclassman next week and I hope there'll be some improvement. This is going on your record and if there's no progress, you'll be recommended for dismissal."

"Of course Major Johnston, I will do my best to develop my leadership skills," I say with as little emotion as possible.

The anger I feel turns into a barely controlled rage. I grind my teeth, my jaw muscles tighten and my heart pounds like a fist in my ears. How dare my flight throw me under the bus? I feel so small, having to suck up to the Major and promise him to be a good little soldier. But I also realize that I do not want to be booted out of the air force and have to face Mitch, and tell him the truth. I can always tell him I did not make the grade, but that would be too humiliating. This is unfair and I am not going to let them win.

I salute the Major and return to training with a burning rage that I am unable to quell. Understanding I must improve my performance, as I move to the status of upperclassman, I try to engage the members of my flight, but my stubborn pride takes over and I can do little more than ignore them.

When the day ends, I finally return to my room, hoping to find Katie, but instead there is a note on my bed. I immediately open it and my jaw drops in disbelief as I read the words.

'Mia, I thought you were going to take care of this situation for me, but I guess your little plan didn't go as intended.

I want to believe you did your best to try and help me. However, I think it's unfair that you got my hopes up for nothing. This morning I was asked to leave, somehow still being allowed to fall back as enlisted. I don't know, maybe you saved me form actually being booted. Anyway, they rushed me off base quickly, which is for the best because I probably would have torn your fucking head off if I had seen you!

Fuck you very much,

Katie.'

Despite the situation I cannot help but laugh, the note being so typical of Katie. As I crumble it and make a start to cast it aside, I am struck with a realization. I straighten out the paper and read.

"Oh my God," I say out loud as I absorb 'This morning I was asked to leave.'

"That son of a bitch!" I hiss in a half whisper.

I was right all along; Lewis never intended to help me out. Of course, how could I be so stupid? He is a Colonel, sure he may have more to lose, but he is also a high ranking officer. He probably gets away with all sorts of nefarious behavior. I want to be angry at myself for having slept with him, but realize that I really had no choice.

A lump rises in my throat as I make another startling observation, did my flight complain about me, or is that the bullshit lie being fed to me, per Colonel Powell? A burning rage rips through me and there is no relieving it. It's like being punched in the face and not being able to return the blow. One thing is certain, my choices are play by his rules, or be pushed out of the air force in the most painful, humiliating way possible.

I nervously glance at my wrist watch - it is almost seven. Racing to the bathroom I look at myself in the mirror, brush my hair for the hundredth time, and tell myself I can do this. I return to my bed and start to chew my already stubby nails. Mentally, I scold myself and throw my hand down on the mattress.

Lifting the hand I had so angrily cast away, I gaze at the large digital numbers on my watch. I count the flashing colon separating the hour from the minutes. 'Fifty-eight Mississippi; fifty-nine Mississippi; Seven O'clock.'

Taking a deep breath, I rise from the bed and straighten my clothes. As I exit the dormitory I spot Airman Averell waiting for me. I plaster on my best fake smile, approach the driver's side window and tap lightly on the glass.

The airman's eyes grow wide and he fumbles a bit before opening the window.

"Hop in," he says in a low voice, "Quickly, or you'll be late and the Colonel doesn't like that."

I explore the airman's face, noting it's too chubby for his skinny frame. Lost around rolls of fat, his brown eyes peer back at me, tiny and beady, like a rat. His hair is cropped back, like most military men, and on the very top of his head, a patch of scalp shows through. Premature balding, unattractive, I bet his sex life consists of little more than fantasizing about the Colonel's exploits and masturbating.

I cross my forearms, lean over and rest them on the door's edge, fully exposing my cleavage. The airman shifts away from me, which makes me laugh in a low, almost cruel way.

His face turns into a scowl and he asks me again to enter the car.

"You're an enlisted man, aren't you?" I ask, my voice edging with contempt.

"Yes," he responds with trepidation.

"Then I suggest you show an officer more respect."

His face changes from one of anger to pain, as if someone has just punched him in the gut. "Yes, Ma'am, I'm sorry, but we shouldn't be seen like this."

I reach into the car and stroke his cheek, causing him to flinch, almost hopping into the passenger's seat. He brushes away my hand.

"You tell the Colonel that he didn't make good on his promise about Katie. You also tell him that I know he's the one that's harping on my leadership skills, and that needs to go away. If he makes good on this, then I'll play whatever role he wants this weekend. He can have me overnight and I'll fuck him like he's never been fucked before."

Even though Averell grasps the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white, he still cannot hide the tremble in his hands. He shakes his head, and in a barely audible voice tells me he cannot do that.

"Why not?" I demand as reach for him again.

"Stop, please," he says as he shrinks away, like a child fearful of being hit. "He'll be angry with me…you don't understand the Colonel."

"Oh but I do," I say with a sadistic tone that I surprisingly enjoy. "And you tell him exactly what I said, or I'll tell him that you tried to fuck me in the car."

"No…no…he'd never believe it," he stammers.

"Really, airman, I think he would…your stu…stu…stuttering gives you away." I feel my mouth twist into an evil grin.

He releases a heavy sigh, cast his eyes down and mumbles okay.

I stand straight and glare at him, my heart filled with doubt over whether he will relay my message to the Colonel. I am taking a big risk, but I hope the plan I have been mulling over most of the afternoon works as intended.

The next few days seem to drag as I anxiously await Colonel Powell's reaction. I wonder if he has written me off and intends to continue making my life a living hell, or perhaps he is taking his time, knowing he is in the driver's seat and I am sweating under the pressure of waiting for his response.

I lie awake at night, missing Katie, wanting to hear her words of support and encouragement. I wish she had not left on such bad terms, but it's like I said from the beginning, 'so much for friends'. I beat myself emotionally for falling into the same old patterns. I promised myself I would change, but every time I try, I fail. But now I am determined more than ever to prevail in this little drama, not only for myself, but also for Mitch.

I convince myself of my capabilities when I relive the pleasure I felt while watching Airman Averell squirm under my threats. It was a turning point for me. Normally, I would find such behavior reprehensible, but now I realize it is necessary for survival, survival in a world that had been shielded from me by Ben. He had made my every decision. He had taken care of me. In return I was his prisoner, but I am free now and can longer play catch-up with becoming an adult.

As Friday nears, I find myself taking more walks during off hours, hoping to see the Colonel, and as if some angel heard my pleas and took pity upon me, I see Lewis in the distance, and he sees me.

"Lt. Barton," he calls out in a stern voice.

I stop and salute him as he quickly approaches. "Good afternoon, Colonel."

"I'm very disappointed that you didn't see me earlier this week," he says in tone that edges more with hurt than anger, making me believe he is not nearly as sure of himself as he likes to pretend.

"I'm sorry, Colonel, but I thought we had an agreement, and well, Katie is no longer here, and-"

"I have people to answer to Mia," he cuts in sharply. "I did what I could for your friend; at least she's still in the military."

Something in his voice and demeanor makes me think he is lying, but I am willing to play his game as long as I get what I want.

"What about my so called poor leadership skills?" I ask as I place my hands on my hips and glare at him.

His eyes narrow and he says in a low, but deadly voice, "You need to change your posture, Mia. That's no way to act in public with a superior officer."

I straighten-up and relax my face, knowing he is right. "Look, I've been doing a lot of thinking, and I know you have all the power here, so what's the point of giving myself to you, the 'perfect sub' as you had said, if I am going to be continually harassed and get nothing in return?"

"You get a no strings relationship, Mia. I thought that's what you wanted."

"A no strings relationship," I echo. "I can get that anywhere, without all the drama!"

He falls silent, his mind working a way around this mess. "Well, I guess you're not the weak little girl I thought you were." A smile spreads across his rough cheeks as if this gesture of merriment will make the bite of his comment less severe.

I remain expressionless and say, "I want Major Johnston to call me into his office and tell me that there is nothing on my record, and I want to see proof of it."

"I…I don't know if I can do that Mia, I don't know anything at all about your record." He turns apologetic eyes upon me. "I had nothing to do with that, you have to believe me."

"I don't believe you," I say with an even voice. "And I'm not that stupid. Did you not say I didn't know 'who I was messing with', and did you not say, 'be there or else'?"

A smile creeps across his face, like a child who has been caught in a lie. "You'll spend the night with me?"

"Friday night," I say.

"Friday and you'll do as I say," his tone is as challenging as the look in his eyes.

I hesitate, not knowing what he will expect of me, not knowing if I can endure whatever he has planned. But still, despite the depraved negotiations, I find myself strangely excited by the thought of making love to him again. It is sick, I know, but remembering his sheer size sends ripples of excitement through my body.

Drowning in lust makes it difficult for me to remember that I am on a mission, and that he is black mailing me and playing me for a fool. My face flushes as I recall the humiliating encounter with the Major. The anger I feel gives me a burning desire to hurt him, but I have to play by his rules, that is the deal, which could mean he wants to hurt me, possibly beyond my willing threshold.

"Okay," I say. "But my record has to be clear by tomorrow or it's a no go."

"And you're willing to do whatever I ask?" He says with a sly edge to his voice. "To fuck me like I've never been fucked before?"

A spike of fear shoots through me, making me fear my voice may falter, so I simply nod my head.

"Seven O'clock, Airman Averell, and don't keep me waiting," he says, a victory smile spreading across his face.

I salute him and he walks away, leaving me alone, wondering if I have made a huge mistake.

I spend the rest of the day convincing myself that I have done the right thing. Everything is rolling along according to plan, that I cannot deny, but what if things get too rough? I trusted Logan, but Lewis is a snake, a man who is not good for his word. He must have a weakness I can exploit, and I plan to find it before I meet with him Friday evening.

The next day I am called out of class and told that Major Johnston wants to see me. When I enter the Major's office, his demeanor is friendlier than the last time we met. When he tells me to take a seat I glide in the chair, not feeling the least bit nervous, although a rush of adrenaline floods my body as I wonder if Lewis has made good on his promise, or if he is turning up the heat.

The Major lifts a file from his desk, slowly opens it and removes a piece of paper. He turns it to me and says, "Mia, I want you to read this."

I gingerly take the paper and read the extent of the complaint. It seems as if the Colonel was not lying after all, the flight had voiced its concerns about me to the new commander.

_What dirty rats!_

I gulp hard, finding myself at a loss for words. My eyes shift from the paper back to the Major. I open my mouth to speak, but he raises his hand, motioning me to stay silent.

"We feel you're at an unfair advantage, given the suspicious nature of Lt. McCoy's death. We at the air force understand how others may blame you or mistrust you because of the unfortunate rumors regarding your relationship with your commander. However, without any substantial proof of an affair or anything to indicate that you did not perform at your best, we will be striking this from your record."

I try to restrain the smile that blossoms from within, but despite my best efforts, I can feel the corners of my mouth turn up, like a flower lifting to the sun.

He reaches across the desk, gently pulls the paper from my hand and tears it.

"Really?" I ask incredulously.

"Really," he echoes. "Now get back to training Lt. Barton and I expect not to see you here again."

I look at his face carefully, searching for a hint of a smile, but like any good career military person, he remains emotionless. His lackluster eyes fall away from me, and I take the cue to salute and leave.

As I race to rejoin my flight, there is a spring in my step that I have not felt in a very long time. Yet despite my happiness, worries about my evening with Lewis pop into my head, but somehow I manage to push them to the back of my mind, allowing myself to revel in my victory.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

After I zip up my pants, I turn to look at my rear in the mirror.

_Too tight._

I start to unbutton them, but then change my mind.

_Guys like too tight._

I smile and try to imagine I am getting dressed to go out with Mitch, and then, as if we are connected by some magical telepathy, my phone jingles to life.

"Hello?" I ask breathlessly.

"Mia, baby, how are you doing?" whispers Mitch.

"I'm doing, Okay," I say, and then remembering that I am not meeting with him, I suddenly feel deflated, but push negative thoughts to the back of my mind. "Why are you whispering?"

"Sorry, my mother just fell asleep. I'm stepping outside now." The sound of a closing door follows his words.

"So how are you doing, Mitch?" I ask as I step into my room and take a seat on the edge of the bed. "How are you holding up?"

A gentle laugh escapes him. "I'm doing fine Mia. I'm a little tired, but I found a place and put in an offer."

My heart surges with excitement at the thought of playing house with Mitch. "What is it like?" I ask eagerly, already imaging a Spanish tile roof, perhaps a swimming pool out back.

"It's pretty nice Mia. I had you in mind when I was looking. I only wish you could've been with me."

"Me too, Mitch. I'm so excited. I can't wait to see it!"

"Yeah, well, when you take leave you can see it, of course if my offer is accepted. It's big…five bedrooms."

"Five bedrooms," I echo.

"Yeah, ya know…in case we decide to grow our family."

My eyes brim with tears, and it takes a great deal of effort to choke them down. "Mitch I love you so much, and I want to have lots of children."

"Whoa, now, define lots?" he says with a spark in his voice that leaves no room for guessing the love he has for me.

My watch alarm goes off.

_It's time._

"Look Mitch, I've got to go-"

"Wait, you're not going off base are you," he says, his voice edging with concern.

"No, I'm hanging out on base with a couple of girlfriends," I say as evenly as possible, hoping my voice does not reflect the guilt of the lie.

"Okay, the home aid comes tomorrow and I'm returning to San Antonio. I'll call you when I get there."

"Okay, babe, I love you."

"Me too."

The phone goes silent. I take a deep breath, close my eyes monetarily and adjust the burden somewhere in my soul. I am doing this for Mitch, and once I have accomplished my goals, I will never lie to him again.

I race to the window and see Airman Averell waiting. A fake smile stretches across my face as I grab my bag and quicken my pace out of the dormitory.

I open the passenger side door of the old Ford Focus and plop next to the Airman. "You're here early," I say.

He casts me a sideway glance and in a barely audible voice says, "Let's get going."

"Well, I need to stop by the store real quick," I say.

"No stops," he retorts as he turns the key in the ignition.

I release a frustrated gasp, shift myself as close to him as possible and say, "I am a superior officer and we will stop by the store."

His forehead wrinkles, and his eyes sparkle with contempt. "You don't want to be late for the Colonel."

"We'll only be late if you don't hurry the hell up," I snap back, the severity of my voice leaving no room for argument.

He sighs in defeat and asks me where I want to go.

I direct him to a Winn-Dixie in a strip mall. When he stops, I hop out and make way toward the neighboring liquor store. Airman Averell shuts the ignition and bounces out of the car after me.

He grabs my arms, nearly jerking me off my feet. "You can't go in there!"

I pull away from his grasp. "Don't touch me!"

He brushes a hand over his head as he casts his eyes to the ground. "Look, we really don't have time for this."

"Why not?" I ask. "I'll be quick…just wait in the car."

"Please don't do this," he says, his eyes pleading with me as much as his voice.

Softening my tone, I ask, "Look…Averell…do you have a first name?"

"It's Bill, okay, but really the Colonel gave me specific orders, no stops." He shifts his weight from foot to foot.

I can feel a look of puzzlement spread across my face. "Okay, well, we won't have to tell him we stopped. Seriously, you need to relax Bill."

The air is heavy with tension and I leave Bill standing, hands on his hips, eyes filled with worry. I find his behavior odd, and am certain he is more than the Colonel's errand boy.

Feeling guilty for abusing Bill, knowing how much I hate it when superior officers terrorize me, I quickly grab a six pack of soda water and a bottle of scotch, pay and leave the store.

"Why no stops?" I ask Bill as I climb into the car.

"Just his orders M 'am."

"How long have you been his errand boy, anyway?" I ask.

Even though the light is starting to fade, I can see beads of sweat forming on his forehead, glistening under the overhead street lamps.

"I'm not an errand boy," he snaps back.

"Okay, I'm sorry…I mean I am not better than you…and you know what I'm doing," I say with a casual voice.

He shifts in his seat and grips the steering wheel tighter. "Look, he tips me well and I got bills to pay. In return, he gets my silence."

"Okay, Bill, I understand, but what's with all the hostility?"

"No offense M 'am, but I don't have much respect for girls like you."

I am taken aback by his comment. How dare he judge me?

"You do know he's blackmailing me into having sex with him," I say, biting back the anger that fills me. After a stretch of silence, I plunge forward. "Of course you know, but you'll judge me anyway. At least you're getting paid!"

"Sorry M 'am…I shouldn't have said that." He sighs and loosens his grip on the wheel. "I…I just don't like seeing all you girls doing this…that's all. All of you are so pretty and it just ain't right…but it's like I said-"

"Yeah, I know, I interrupt. "You need the money, nothing really wrong with that Bill. What's wrong is the Colonel."

The car pulls to a stop. "Okay M 'am we're here…I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention this to the Colonel."

"Of course not," I say as I collect my things. "As far as I'm concerned I stopped by the store earlier in the week, and lookie there" - I point to the dashboard clock - "We're right on time."

A small smile emerges and he says, "Good night."

I stand outside the Colonel's door, feeling surprisingly elated that he has other girls. That translates into more evidence that can be used against him, if it should go that route.

Taking a deep breath, I brush back my hair and ring the doorbell.

The door swings open and Lewis calls out, "Just in time Mia, come in."

A snake like smile creeps across his face and I do my best to avert my eyes as I brush past him into the house. I glance about the room, looking for anything unusual, anything that might be too kinky even for my tastes, but nothing has changed. Of course, it's probably all in the bedroom. The whips and toys, some of which I have never seen before.

"What's this," says Lewis as he comes from behind and pulls on the edge of the brown paper bag cradled in my arms.

"Oh, well…Colonel," I say as seductively as possible. "I went to the store earlier this week and bought some scotch and water. Can I interest you in a cocktail?"

The smile on his face leaves and he says, "I have wine Mia, that's all I'll drink."

"Why?" I ask.

He turns away from me and begins to pace. "Never mind why. Why don't you just set it down on the table? I've some wine I've been chilling for us."

"Well, you don't have to have a cocktail, but I will," I say as I find my way to the kitchen and start opening cabinets, looking for a glass.

He follows after me, void of all humor. "Mia, did you hear me?"

I stop my search, look at him with puzzled eyes and say, "Lewis, let me have a drink I want okay? You've asked me to stay for the night and I need this drink to relax a little."

His expression softens. "Then have some wine Mia."

"It gives me migraines," I return.

He reluctantly agrees and pulls out a glass from a high cabinet.

I make myself a strong drink and join Lewis on the sofa in the living room. I want to explore his aversion to liquor, but refrain, realizing he may have a drinking problem.

Lewis places a warm hand on my thigh, triggering tingles of excitement through my body. My mind turns to the sex swing. I want to tire him out on it, hoping that whatever nefarious acts his has planned go undone.

"Lewis," I say as I shift uncomfortably in my seat. "I'm a little worried about what you have planned."

"Mia, baby, I'm not going to hurt you, really, is that what you think?" His hand moves further up my leg, his fingers navigating around my panties.

I release a tiny gasp as my juices begin to flow. "Yes, I'm afraid," I say, then move forward, grabbing my glass and gulping. With his free hand he removes the drink from my grasp and pushes me back.

His fingertips begin to caress my labia. Lewis chuckles, "Mia, looks like you need another haircut."

I feel my face flush and release an uncomfortable giggle. His fingers now spread my lips and begin to massage my clitoris. Instinctively, I open my legs and my breath grows heavy. Trying not to forget my mission I throw myself into his broad, muscular chest, wrap my arms around his neck and begin to kiss him.

He breaks free. "So you're a scotch girl," he says playfully as he smacks his lips.

I smile and kiss him again. He removes his hand and shoves me back on the sofa cushions, pinning me under his weight. Pushing his fingers roughly through my hair, his fingers dig into my scalp as his lips move from my mouth and down my neck.

I push against him with all my strength, but he resists.

"Lewis," I gasp. "You're crushing me."

He lifts up on his arms and I slide from under him, grab my cocktail and take a sip. Smiling fully in his face, I tell him that the alcohol makes the sex so much better for me.

"It releases my inhibitions," I say coquettishly. "It makes me more relaxed and willing." I raise a brow, then tip my drink toward him.

His lips meet the rim of the glass and he begins to sip. At first it is a taste and then he grabs it from my hand and swallows it all in one gulp. He slams the glass down on the table and releases a hearty sigh and shakes his head like a dog that just whiffed pepper.

"Boy, Mia you sure make a strong drink."

He turns to me, eyes burning with passion and I spring from the sofa, run to the kitchen and make another drink.

When I return Lewis pulls me close and removes my shirt. He begins to fondle my breasts, squeezing them gently at first, and then harder. His mouth meets a nipple, his tongue caressing it and then his teeth clamp down, making me moan out in pain. His eyes meet mine, sparkling with sadistic intent.

I pull away from him and move my hands to his pants. Unbuckling them and reaching inside I wrap my fingers around his penis, my thumb and fingers unable to meet. I stroke gently and as his breath becomes heavy, I move my head down and start to lick the head. Lewis falls back, allowing himself to relax as I squeeze my lips around the shaft, and begin sucking. I move my head back and forth in a slow rhythmic motion. He begins to thrust his hips and reaches behind my head, and pushes down, nearly causing me to gag as he ejaculates in my mouth. I swallow quickly and turn to my drink to wash it down.

"Damn Mia, you're truly gifted," he says with a pleased smile, "but I'm not done with you yet." He takes the drink from my trembling hands and gulps it down. Rising form the sofa he grabs my arm, jerking me to my feet, and leads me to the bedroom.

I nervously eye the door as we near. My head is spinning and I am determined not to drink anymore so I can complete my task. Lewis pulls me into the room, whirls me around, then flings me on the bed. Needling pangs of fear begin to grip me, but the sheets are soft, satiny and inviting, making me hopeful there will be more tenderness than unchecked pain.

Lewis fumbles with his clothes as he tries to maintain balance while removing them.

"Take off your clothes!" he yells, his voice commanding.

Paralyzed with fear, I fail to react. Lewis stumbles toward me and begins to pull at my jeans. I grab his head between my hands and begin to kiss him.

"Give me a chance," I plead when he breaks away from my grasp.

"Oh Mia baby, the things I want to do to you." Fear strikes through me like a sharp spear and it shows. He continues with slurred words, "Why're you so afraid?"

I glance to the corner of the room at the swing that hangs motionless from the ceiling. "Well, I…I was hoping we could give the swing a try."

"I have something else in mind." He looks at me with a chilling gaze that unsettles me as I stare into his burning eyes. Grabbing my breasts he rubs them roughly, and once again I try to escape his touch.

"Colonel, you said you weren't going to hurt me." I plead, finding myself prostrate on the bed, arms crossed over my breasts.

"I went out on a limb for you and saved your ass Mia, now you'll obey me," he says, his voice cracking with indignation. "We had a deal Mia. You'd be my slave for the night."

I know he is right and force myself to relax and submit to him. A twisted smile spreads across his face when he tells me to stay where I am, then he leaves. I lie on the bed, cold and motionless, terrified of what's to come. He returns with a razor and shaving cream. I take a deep breath, remembering it was not so bad the first time he shaved me, but there is a sadistic glow in his eye that makes me uneasy.

He sets the razor aside, grabs my legs and yanks me to the edge of the bed. Slapping me hard on the side of my buttocks he tells me that he expects me to be shaved always and rants about cleanliness. The burn seems to linger too long after the blow. There is no stimulation from him to turn the agony into pleasure. He is no Logan, and there is definitely a side to this lifestyle that I had not counted on.

His temper subsides just as quickly as it flared and he falls silent. Picking up the razor, he begins to shave me with an anger that makes my breath grow shallow and heart pound out of control. The sharp, metal blade nicks my flesh, making me cry out. It's not the foreplay I had with Logan, not the excitement and thrill of what is to come next. I am more terrified than I have ever been. Even Ben, I feel, would have been a better alternative to this.

I question what I have become and why it is so important for me to save face. Why not just let myself be dismissed from the military? Why do I have such stubborn pride? I realize the reason is the pain it would cause Mitch if he were to discover I have been unfaithful.

Lewis springs back from the bed and looks upon me with adoration, taking pleasure in his handy work. I lie still, trembling and choking on the sobs I refuse to let escape me.

"It's a beautiful thing," he says as he falls to his knees and begins to lick the sides of my crotch.

As he traces his tongue along the trail of blood that trickles down my inner thighs, I try to relax, hoping the worst is over. He rises to his feet, steps over to the bureau in the corner of the room and pulls out some rope and two sets of handcuffs.

He grabs a wrist and pulls me to the head of the bed, latching the cuff to the solid metal frame. I want to resist, but cannot, he is too strong, too tipsy and out of control. Just then I realize why he does not like to drink hard liquor. He loses control and hurts people, and I curse myself for allowing this to happen. How could I be so foolish? Why am I trying to be clever? I am simple, stupid, uncalculating. Ben is right about that.

I wince as he stretches my other arm over my head and clamps me to the other side of the frame. I cross my legs tight in a feeble attempt to resist, which only makes Lewis laugh in a low, cruel way. He pries apart my legs and ties a rope around each ankle. He pulls hard, lifting me off the mattress and ties the ends to the bed frame.

I cry out and beg him to listen to me. "You're hurting me Lewis, Please." My voice is pleading, but the stony look in his eyes leaves me no doubt that my pleas are falling on deaf ears.

He approaches my side and reaches up to my face, stroking away the tears that trickle down my checks.

"Mia I'm not going to hurt you, I promise," he says in a meaningful whisper.

I want to cry out that he is already hurting me, but fear it will only encourage him to inflict more pain.

His hand travels down my neck, caresses my breasts gently, then moves down my abdomen to my clitoris. His pushes a finger into my vagina, making me writhe in pleasure. I try to be angry with myself for enjoying his touch, but then he pushes in another finger and begins to circle. As I approach climax he falls still and waits. Then he pushes in another finger and then another. He expands his fingers as he continues pushing until his entire fist is almost inside of me. At first it is painful, but as I relax the pleasure becomes intense and I moan out as I climax, the ropes biting into my ankles.

When I finish, Lewis chuckles and gets close to my ear. "See, now did that hurt?"

I shake my head from side to side, but the burn from the handcuffs and ropes that suspend me is more than I can bear. "It's hurts." I cry out as I twist, trying to find comfort, but only experiencing more pain.

He positions himself between my legs, clutches my hips and lifts me up on his lap. The relief is immediate. He grabs my buttocks roughly, his fingers kneading my flesh. The sensation is a mixture of pleasure with pain. He sits up on his knees and enters me with a violent push. Hitting my cervix, I cry out and he adjusts his position. Thrusting violently he continues in and out until we climax together.

When he finishes he loosens the ropes. I relax my tense muscles and lie motionless on the bed. Lewis finds his way beside me and begins to stroke my abdomen.

"You okay Mia?" he asks and begins to blow in my ear.

"I am now," I say, which makes him chuckle.

He pushes his fingers through his hair and releases a heavy sign. "Ah, Mia, I hope you enjoyed yourself. I sure as hell did," he says in a more sober voice.

I remain silent, realizing that I did enjoy myself, but not like I did with Logan. I trusted Logan to know my limits, but Lewis does not seem to care.

"I…I just worry because you don't listen to me when I tell you to stop," I say with a tremble in my voice.

"Mia, admit that you enjoyed yourself, the thrill of not knowing excited you. I know it and you know it," he says matter-of-factly.

As Lewis begins to relax, I turn to him and ask, "So how is the murder investigation going?"

"Oh, it's going," he replies with a yawn, then punches the pillow under his head.

"Lewis, I want to know…I mean I had feelings for Logan," my tone is as sad as my eyes.

"Mia, I really shouldn't discuss the case with you."

"Oh, I see," I respond, my voice grating with anger. "I'm good for a fucking, no control over when and where, but you can't tell me anything about the case."

I make a start to hop out of bed when he grabs me by the shoulders and pulls me back down. He props up on his elbows and turns his eyes upon me. A grin breaks his serious expression like sunshine in the middle of a rain storm. "Okay, Mia, I'll tell you…I just didn't feel like talking about that after having sex."

"But it's important to me," I say, my voice cracking.

"Well, you may not want to hear this…it was a lead…thanks to you, but it didn't pan out."

I wrinkle my nose and ask, "What lead?"

"The text message you received, Mia," he says, surprised I had forgot.

A gasp escapes me. "It was from the killer wasn't it?"

I make a start to sit-up, but he pushes me back down. "The message came from a web domain at the local library."

"What does that mean?" I ask feeling thoroughly confused.

"It means someone went on the internet at the library and sent you a text, using an anonymous email address."

"That means Logan's death was because of me," I say with a tremble in my voice.

Lewis folds me in his arms, his sudden gentleness sending the tears that bulge in my eyes cascading down my cheeks.

"But it wasn't your fault Mia, you have to know that. The troubling part is I'm trying to protect you in this investigation, but it's clear you were having a relationship with Logan. I don't know if I can even overlook that."

"But he was having relationships with a lot of women." I wipe away the moisture from my face and look up into his eyes, radiating an unexpected compassion.

"And protocol would be to court martial all of you."

I purse my lips and frown. "But we were his trainees, I cared for Logan, and I know it's wrong, but he was in a position of power and -" My voice trails off as I realize I am only making excuses. Logan did not force me to do anything. I willingly agreed, and I am sure they have the text messages confirming it.

"Look Mia, I'm not going to sugar coat it, Logan fooled around with a lot of trainees and chances are good you'll get a stern warning…all of you will get a stern warning."

My heart skips a beat as I scold myself for falling so hard for Logan. For a time I even considered him over Mitch, the man who has been there for me, the man who loves me as I am, the man who wants nothing more than to please me. And that is when I make another realization. My self-esteem is so low that I cannot appreciate someone who just wants to make me happy. I always seek out men who control me, play with me, and ultimately satisfy their desires with little regard to my own.

"You know," I say with a sniffle, "I do want to know who killed Logan and I do want the person to be punished, but I'm beginning to not care so much anymore."

"Well, we're getting closer," he responds with a sigh, then stretches an arm behind his head.

I turn to his with large, wondering eyes, "How so?"

"They found some hairs on Logan's body and were able to isolate some mitochondrial DNA. Now it's just a matter of matching it to the suspects."

"Who are the suspects?" I ask, my voice suddenly anxious.

Lewis reaches over and brushes my hair from my face, and I snuggle close to him, as if this simple act will coax all I want to know out of him.

"Your ex-fiancé Ben and your other boyfriend Mitch." He releases a giggle and continues. "You sure do get around for someone who comes off so innocent."

I push away from Lewis and shoot upright. "Why would you say Mitch? Why didn't anyone ask me? I saw Ben following me and Logan that night, I know he was there, but Mitch had already left for California to visit his sick mom." My voice rises dangerously and I plunge on. "Why did no one ask me what I witnessed? What I knew?"

"Because Mia, we already got everything we needed to know. We checked out hotel reservations, local bars, and flight reservations. We also got a lot of information from witnesses. We know Ben was asking about you in town. We were going to call you in for more questioning, but I've been holding it off."

"Why?" I ask, hating the quiver in my voice.

He grabs my arm and pulls, but I resist this time. His serious expression turns even more severe as if he realizes I am not playing games.

"Okay, Mia, I didn't want to ruin our evening together. I was planning on questioning you Monday-"

"How selfish can you be," I cut in. "You just don't give a shit about anyone else do you? That explains it." I release a sarcastic laugh as I hop out of bed, brushing away his hand as he reaches for me. "You aren't married, never have been, I'm sure…you're an asshole. A control freak asshole that only cares about moving up the military ranks and fucking young, dumb, helpless girls like me." I begin to pace, clinching my fists, my nails digging into my flesh. "I'm so sick and tired of you self-serving men." I stop, then look up at him, sitting up in the bed now, confusion in his expression.

"Mia, I just didn't want to upset you. I know how much you care for Mitch. Katie mentioned it in the interview." He speaks softly, surprising me, my biting remarks having no effect on him.

"Funny how Katie mentioned so much, yet no one bothered to question me. Oh I know, you didn't want to ruin the evening, but I get it. Boy, do I get it. Leaving me in the dark made it easier for you to manipulate. Knowledge is power, right?"

"Mia, c'mon…I think the reason you're really upset is because you know that Mitch may be the killer," he returns, his comment cutting into me like a bard at the end of a whip.

"He's not a killer," I say as my face twists with fury. "He wasn't even here, why do you keep saying he was?"

Lewis slowly rises from the bed, walks over to me and folds me into his arms. "Mia, we have the flight records and hotel records. He left the day after the murder. He was here; believe me when I tell you this."

My heart pangs out of control and a sharp pain rises in my chest. That, along with the worry that begins to gnaw at my gut, makes my legs falter. Lewis catches me in his strong arms and places me on the bed.

"Mia, I'm so sorry I had to break it you like this." His voice resonates with concern, but I am too dazed to respond. I tell myself there must be a reason why Mitch lied to me.

"I…I don't understand," I say, then repeat it over and over like an insane person.

Lewis grabs me by my shoulders, then moves his face inches from my own. I stare back at him with blank, unfeeling eyes.

"Mia," he says softly, "I know now is probably not the time, but there are two murders. Another airman was murdered and his ID was used to gain entry to the base. We're checking local bars now to see if anyone recognizes any of our suspects."

"Another murder," I echo like an automaton.

It is all too much for me. My head aches and my mind is a bevy of conflicting thoughts and emotions. "It can't be," is all I can say.

Then I collapse into a fit of tears. Lewis repositions me comfortably on the bed. He pulls the soft, satiny sheet just below my chin and leaves, retuning with a glass of water and a pill.

"Here take this," He says as he holds out his hand. His eyes radiate a kindness that makes me let down my guard. I take the pill and put it in my mouth. He tips the glass of water to my lips and I swallow.

"What is it?" I ask as I stare off into space.

"A sedative, Mia." He strokes back my hair and continues, "I really didn't want to tell you all this. Do you understand now?"

I nod my head absently and fight to keep my head up. My eyes grow heavy, then all goes dark.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

I twist in the sheets, then wake, writhing in pleasure. Only it is not a dream. Lewis is on top of me, thrusting in and out. Enjoying his touch, I push back the small spines of anger I feel. When we climax together he rolls off, releasing a hearty sigh.

"Lewis, I was sleeping," I say, my voice thick with sleep.

"I know," he returns with a devil may care smile. "You just looked so sweet lying there, softly breathing…so warm. You enjoyed yourself didn't you?"

He knows I did, so I do not respond.

Lewis swings his feet to the floor. "Mia, I've got to get going and so do you. Airman Averell will be here in half an hour."

A wave of relief washes over me, knowing I won't have to spend another minute with Lewis. Even though I have enjoyed some of our moments together, I do not trust him and feel that his sadism will only increase the more time we spend together.

"What are you doing today?" I ask as I drag myself out of bed, still drowsy from the sedative.

"Never mind Mia," he says as he buttons his shirt.

I feel a shift in his attitude, putting me immediately on guard. He rushes about in a hurry and I can sense he wants me to leave quickly. I waste no time dressing and race to the front door, Lewis on my heels.

"Mia," he says and grabs my arm, pulling me into his chest. "We'll do this again. Next weekend, I didn't get to do everything I had planned." A sly smile spreads across his face. I want to ask what he has on his mind, but decide its best not to start worrying about that now.

I flash him a weak smile and nod. He grabs my head and kisses me with a roughness that makes me tremble. I push away from him and turn the door knob, and thankfully Airman Averell is there, waiting.

I hop into the car and wave to Lewis as we pull out of the drive.

"Good Morning, Bill," I say.

"Morning Ma'am," he returns coldly.

I am relieved the airman does not want to talk. Rummaging through my bag, I pull out my phone and several text messages from Mitch pop-up. The last one grabs my heart and twists it into a knot.

'Mia, I love u, tell me u feel the same.'

I look at the time it was sent, two in the morning. I bite my lower lip until it hurts. Part of me wants to draw blood as punishment for my infidelity, but I remind myself that what I am doing has a greater purpose. I wanted to broach what is really on my mind with Lewis, but faltered. It felt too soon. He is not involved enough with me, and I failed to create the needed situation to carry forward with my plan.

Still guilt grips me and I respond back to Mitch. 'I do love u Mitch, always and 4 ever.'

When I return to base I rush to my room, planning a Saturday evening alone. I call Mitch several times, but there is no answer. Just as I start to worry it occurs to me that he is probably in flight. How could it escape me not to ask when he'd be arriving in San Antonio? Then I realize many things seem to escape me and that is why I often find myself in troubling situations.

I fall back on my bed and stare blankly at the ceiling, ignoring the pains of hunger that overwhelm my stomach. My mind races as I recall my conversation with Lewis, right before the sedative kicked in. Mitch was here when Logan was killed and his death is linked to the death of another man. Is Mitch capable of murder? Is Ben even capable of murder? I want to believe it is Ben, but he is a detective and it does not make sense that he would make his presence known. I think not, and then my suspicions suddenly fall on Lewis. Being a Colonel and most likely knowledgeable of everything that happens on base, maybe he decided he wanted me and Logan was in the way.

I shake the thought from my head. Lewis can bang any girl he wants and he does, Airman Averell confirmed it. Why would he need to murder anyone to get to me? Besides, he does not love me. Only two men love me, Ben and Mitch.

The days drags along slowly and I text Mitch to please call me as soon as he can. It feels like hours before my phone jingles to life.

"Hey Mia, is everything okay?" says Mitch in a dreamy voice. "You've called me a lot."

"Yes," I return, catching the sob that rises in my throat. "How was your flight?"

"It was good, I'm home now. I plan of giving my resignation to Kevin Monday."

"How will he feel about that?" I ask, trying to keep the conversation polite before getting to what weighs on my mind.

"He won't be happy, but I think he'll understand. He'll have plenty of time to find a replacement."

"Ben, maybe?" I throw sarcastically, immediately wishing I could take back the words.

"Mia, is everything ok?" His jovial tone turns guarded.

"Yeah, why?" I return, not even trying to mask my emotions.

"Just your tone seems a little cold…confrontational even."

"I'm sorry Mitch, I just…I just learned that you were here the night the airman was murdered when I thought you're on a plane."

The phone grows silent. I shoot up right and begin to wipe away the tears from eyes.

"Mitch, talk to me," I demand, my sobs growing loud. "Please tell me you had nothing to do with Logan's death."

"Mia," he starts with a conciliatory tone, "We need to talk, in person."

"Oh my God!" I scream as I press the phone harder to my ear. "Please tell me you had nothing to do with any of it Mitch. I love you Mitch, you know that."

"Mia, is that what you think of me?" he returns with a low, hurt voice.

"You…you said we need to talk…Why Mitch? Why did you lie to me? What are hiding from me?" My heart throbs out of control, making my chest ache.

"Mia, I rather we talk in person." His voice is more serious than ever.

"No, I want to know now. Tell me Mitch…did you have anything to do with these murders?"

"Murders?" says Mitch, his tone higher-pitched than normal.

I wipe my nose with my sleeve and take a deep breath before responding. "Yes, another airman was killed."

"Mia, I've nothing to do with any murders, and I'm really bothered you'd even think that. You know me better than that Mia." His voice resonates with anger.

"So what've you been hiding from me Mitch? I need to know." I am ashamed of the desperation in my voice.

"No…I'm visiting you next weekend so we can talk." He says with conviction.

"I can't wait that long!" My ear aches from the pressure of the phone as I continue holding it tight to my head. My other hand is clinched in a fist, my knuckles feeling as if they are going to burst through the skin.

"Mia, I rather not talk about it over the phone."

"Rather not talk about it?" I echo.

"Apparently I am a suspect in not one, but two homicides, Mia. This is serious. It's best if we talk in person."

"Okay," I say, realizing he is sending me a message, that perhaps the phone is being tapped.

The line falls silent again as I collect my thoughts. Of course Mitch is no murderer, how could I even think that?

Mitch breaks the silence. "Mia, why would I want to kill any of those airmen? Why would I be a suspect when the only person I'm linked to is you?"

Tendrils of panic begin to twist around me. I gulp hard and try to shoot back a reasonable explanation. No, a believable lie, which I know he will see right through. If I wait too long, my guilt will become apparent-

"Mia," Mitch continues, "is there something you're hiding from me?"

"You're right, we need to talk," I finally say, pressing my eyes tight, the last of my tears spilling from my eyes.

A heavy sigh follows on the other end. "Mia, God Mia, how could you?"

I drag myself out of bed, and rub my blurry eyes until I can focus. I tossed and turned most of the night thinking about how I have hurt Mitch, and wondering if he will forgive me. Having to wait an entire week to see him is practically unbearable, but he is right, we must talk in person.

I swing my feet to the floor, release a few yawns then check my phone for messages – nothing.

I want to cry, but resist, knowing I cannot meet my new flight with a red, swollen face. It is my turn to be a leader now, to be in a position of power, and even though the thought terrifies me, I am determined to put on a brave front and get the respect I deserve.

After catching a quick bite at the cafeteria I meet my trainees. I glance from face to face, some are terrified, some impassive, and then one who just looks back, a hint of humor in his expression.

I sweep my eyes up and down his body, then focus on his name tag. He is young, good looking and fit. He reminds me of Logan and my heart begins to ache, but only briefly.

Putting more bravado in my voice than what I am really feeling, I yell, "What's so Goddamn funny, Lt. Porter! Am I a joke to you?"

His expression immediately changes into one of anger.

I approach, looking up into his face, my eyes boring into his. "Who the hell do you think you are, grinning at me like that? And why the hell are you looking me in the eye? Hasn't anyone told you the rules?"

"No, ma'am," He finally manages to sputter.

"Ma'am? It's Lt. Barton to you. Drop and give me twenty."

At first he hesitates, but then he does as he is told. Once he finishes and returns to his feet, his expression goes flat, as if he now understands his position.

I take a moment to look over my group, and everyone, including Lt. Porter seems sufficiently terrified. This is a feeling I could get used to.

Releasing my anger on the flight relieves my stress and the anxiety I try to quell over my impending meeting with Mitch. And then it suddenly occurs to me that Lewis expects to meet again this weekend. No, I have to cancel with Lewis, Mitch is more important. I have to know he forgives me and still loves me. And then a pain stabs at my belly as the Colonel's words resonate in my head, 'Mitch might be the killer.' I shake the thought away.

Later that evening I head out in search of the Colonel to break our plans. As I cross the campus, strolling the same area where I had encountered him the last time, I notice Airman Averell in his car.

I sneak up to passenger side window and tap the glass, making him jump. His startled expression twists into anger.

I pull open the door and slide in beside him. "Hello Bill, how are you?"

"What are you doing here?" he asks as his eyes shift nervously from me to the office building.

"Is that any way to greet one of your fellow rule breakers, not to mention superior officer?" I ask with a sly edge to my voice.

"I'm not breaking any rules, the Colonel needs to go immediately to the airport after his meeting," he returns and then emits a sigh as if he has revealed too much.

"Oh," I say, my curiosity peaking. "And where exactly is Lewis going?"

"I'm not at liberty to say," he grumbles as he grips the steering wheel tighter.

"Why so secretive, I mean aren't we in this together, getting something from the Colonel in return for our services." I say with as much sarcasm as I can muster.

"Maybe," he returns coldly, "but I don't trust you or anyone else for that matter."

"Hmm, well, I can't blame you for that. Everyone I've met here so far has been an asshole."

I hop out of the car, convinced Lewis is heading out to further investigate the case, but I cannot help but feel there is something more the Colonel is hiding. I pace outside the office building, wanting to go inside, find where Lewis is and eavesdrop, but the thought is absurd. I'd be seen, and have to explain my presence. So instead, I wait.

"Good afternoon, Major General McClernand" says Colonel Lewis as he rushes into the conference room, saluting.

"Please be seated, Lewis," returns the major with a sigh as he intertwines his fingers and fixes his eyes firmly on the Colonel.

A trickle of perspiration makes its way slowly down Lewis' check. "So…any news?" he asks.

A smile flickers across the Major General's face. "She's agreed not to pursue the complaint."

Lewis bursts with a childlike grin and sighs heavily. Nodding his head he says, "That's terrific. What made her change her mind?"

"She didn't have anything on you. Basically your word against hers and her collaborators, well, they had a change of heart too." He raises a brow as if to suggest the girls were gently persuaded to reconsider their position on the complaint.

Lewis sits back, his shoulders slightly slumping. "Great and I'll be heading out for a few days to Texas, so that gives me a chance to break away from this for a while."

"Look Lewis, I like you," says the Major General as he leans forward across his desk. "We all like you, but we also know you're guilty as hell." His expression tightens, revealing no hint of humor in his face.

"Ok, well it's over now, right?"

"It can't be over if you continue acting this way. Can't you…can't you hire a whore or something to act out your fantasies? Why must you continue to use our young officers?"

"A whore? I've never paid for pussy and never will," Lewis belts and then immediately apologizes for his outburst when the Major General's expression sours.

"You got lucky this time Lewis. Next time you may not be so lucky. It's been hard keeping all this from the upper brass, and quite frankly, I'm not willing to put my ass on the line for you anymore."

"You're right," says Lewis in an apologetic tone. "I'll be more careful."

The Major General shakes his head in disbelief, and then dismisses Lewis from his office.

Lewis races past me, not even noticing me standing there. I run after him and call out his name.

He turns to me, his face a mask of worry. "Mia, what're you doing here?" He tries to relax his expression.

"Looking for you," I state as if it's all quite obvious. "Where're you off to, Texas, perhaps?"

He looks from me to the car that waits for him in the parking lot. "Oh, Airman Averall told you, huh?"

"He's told me quite a bit," I return as I fail at holding back the half-smile that creeps across my face.

"Oh, sure Mia," He says dismissively.

I raise a brow and say, "So you were in a pretty important meeting in there huh?"

His eyes grow suspicious. "All my meetings are important. I am a high ranking officer, Mia," he growls.

"It's okay, I understand, there're more personal things going on that you don't want to talk about, " I return. "Which bring me to this weekend-"

"Don't fuck with me Mia," He interrupts his voice low and deadly. "I know Averell hasn't told you anything."

"You'll be amazed at how much people will talk when you give them a blow job, Colonel. In fact, I've promised _Bill_ another one while you're gone."

Lewis storms toward me, causing me to flinch and stumble a few steps back. He raises a hand, but restrains himself.

"I'll deal with you later, Mia. Averell'll pick you up at seven Friday." An evil grin stretches across his face, "You've been very bad Mia."

"I…I can't meet you this weekend," I insist, my voice trembling.

"You can and you will," he snaps back.

"No," I say shaking my head, angry at myself for falling apart. "I love Mitch, you know that and I have to meet with him. I have to know he wasn't involved in any of these airmen's' deaths."

His scowl relaxes and he releases a heavy sigh. Through gritted teeth he says, "Okay Mia, just this one time."

I can feel my eyes widen in surprise. Then it hits me, he does worry how everything he has told me may come back to affect him. He is not as invincible as he would like me to believe.

The week wears on, feeling as if months, not days, are passing by, and all I want is for it to end. When I think of Mitch my heart lurches. He does not text or call, and it takes a Herculean effort on my part to refrain from begging him to forgive me and talk to me. Surely he knows I love him and I know he loves me too.

Finally, I text him Thursday, 'Mitch when will you be arriving?' I want to add 'I love u,' but don't.

I lay back on my bed, staring absently at the ceiling, going over in my head what I plan to say to him when I see him. My phone jingles and I answer it too quickly.

"Hello?" I practically whisper, feeling suddenly ashamed over the desperation in my voice.

"Mia, sorry I've been busy and haven't been able to call," he says in an apologetic tone.

The hollowness in my belly is suddenly replaced with hope. "I figured…its okay. I can't wait to see you Mitch." I gulp hard and continue, "I love you."

I am greeted with silence and then a sigh. "Mia, I love you too."

I am not convinced he still loves me and risk sounding pathetic when I say, "Mitch…I know I haven't been honest with you, but you must believe that I love you-"

"Mia, I'll see you Friday evening okay. We can talk then," he cuts in sharply.

The tears pooling in my lower lids find their way down my checks. "I can't wait to see you," I breathe, "I…I-" I want to tell him I love him again, but don't.

"Bye Mia," he says and the phone goes dead.

I am tense all Friday and take my anxieties out on my flight. They hate me, I can feel it, but I don't care. Sick of baby-sitting them, leading them from class to class, I tell them so. I call them irresponsible – children – misguided people who cannot even wipe their own asses.

By evening I find myself in a familiar spot, my bed, lying on my back, and staring at the ceiling. Finally Mitch calls and tells me he is on his way.

I spring from my bed, slip on my sexiest butt jeans and pull on a low cut shirt. My hair is in disarray, and I brush it as I stare at my reflection in the mirror. There is sadness in my face and the lively spark I used to see in my eyes has disappeared. Even when I was at my lowest point, I'd think of Mitch and my eyes would shine. Now I think of him and my heart aches and my stomach twists in pain. How could I have done this to him?

My phone bleeps – he is here. I race out of the dormitory, taking great effort to restrain myself from running to his car. My heart beats in my finger tips and my stomach churns. Nausea overtakes me and I want to vomit, but I take a deep breath and push the feeling away, burying it somewhere deep. It seems like several minutes pass before I make it to his car. Brushing back my hair, I grab the door handle, hesitate a moment and pull. I slowly slide in next to Mitch and turn to meet his gaze.

A smile plays at the corners of his mouth, but his eyes are sad. "It's good to see you Mia."

"You too Mitch." I raise a hand to his face and run my fingers across his stubbly cheek, down to his chin, its rough texture making me tingle with excitement, and I know the circumstances are wrong, but I throw myself into his arms and begin kissing him. To my elation he returns the passion.

When we break free, I sob inconsolably and he reaches a hand to my face, rubbing away the tears that fall from my eyes.

"Mia," he says in a soft whisper. "Were you having a relationship with Logan?"

I cannot bring myself to meet his eyes. I choke back my sobs and say, "I was. I was having a relationship with Logan…I was confused. He was my commanding officer and I was afraid, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't wildly attracted to him, but it was only physical Mitch."

"Are you sure Mia?" he says, his voice low and wounded.

"There were moments when I wasn't so sure, Mitch, but I realized even before all this that my heart belongs to you. His training was ending and I was relieved he'd be leaving. You have to believe me Mitch. I love you and only you."

"Mia, I hoped our distance would make your love for me grow stronger, but you cheated on me. I…I guess I understand. You're alone, inexperienced, curious, but for me Mia…for me I thought you'd resist." He releases my face and slams his fists into the steering wheel, causing me to jump.

"I'm sorry Mitch," I say with a quiver in my voice. "God, I'm so sorry." I reach for his hand, but he jerks it away.

He runs his fingers through his hair and turns to me, his eyes boring into me. The muscle in his square jaw begins to twitch and for the first time ever I fear he may strike me.

"I'm not good enough for you Mia?" he asks, his voice low, but deadly.

"I…I love only you Mitch," I return, startled by his anger. "I don't know what I was thinking. I guess after Ben everything was just so sudden…meeting you…joining the military."

"I don't buy it Mia…I've been faithful to you because I love you. Help me understand," he hisses.

I bury my face in my hands and begin to cry, but force myself to swallow my tears and confront what bothers me. "I guess I wanted a fresh start. I wanted to meet people who know nothing of my past, of my troubles…but it was useless because I'm weak and stupid and they could figure it out. I thought I'd transform and be a new, better stronger me." I release a small giggle as if such a task is impossible for a person like me.

His expression softens and he rests his hands to his sides. "I see, Mia, I know too much about you and that makes you feel vulnerable." He tilts his head to the side, reaches up and brushes the dangling hairs from my face.

"Yes, I'm sorry." I reach for his other hand and this time he doesn't jerk it away. The flicker of hope that had been burning faintly inside of me suddenly flares.

"I understand Mia…really I do, but you're not stupid. I love you just the way you are and Ben has no bearing on how I feel about you. You're a strong woman…you left an abusive relationship…most women don't"

"Like your mom," I say and squeeze his hand.

His eyes drift away from me and he releases a low moan. "Mia, I haven't been completely honest with you."

"I know," I say. "You were here the night those airmen were murdered Mitch, and I'm sorry I thought you killed them."

"Mia, this is so hard for me, but I need to come clean." He grabs my other hand. "But not here, let's go back to my hotel."

My heart beats out of control. I begin to feel ill – dizzy – as if I might faint. "Okay Mitch," I manage to press out through tight lips.

The car grows silent and I wonder what Mitch has been hiding from me. Is he married? Does he have a child? Maybe he has a girlfriend…maybe he has been cheating too? No, that can't be it. He would not be so angry, so hurt, if he had been unfaithful too. He cannot even talk about it with me in the car. He wants my full attention. He wants to read my every expression. It must be something terrible. He too must be afraid of losing me. Whatever it is, I brace myself mentally for it, and am determined to get past it, my love for him being that strong.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

When we arrive at the hotel I follow Mitch quietly into the room. He motions toward a small round table situated in the corner and tells me to take a seat. I do as he says, perching on the edge of my chair. Wiping my sweaty hands on my jeans, I try to release the nervous energy that percolates through every cell in my body by peering out the window, distracting myself, admiring the large oak trees gently swaying in the cool breeze. I imagine better times, when seeing Mitch made my heart burst with joy, but now I am overcome with anxiety as an invisible vice squeezes my heart, making my every breath painful. I hope his secret is much worse than my unfaithfulness because I am willing to forgive him, but am uncertain he will forgive me. I have violated his trust, his love for me. Finally, I tear my eyes away from the window and force myself to face Mitch.

He ambles toward me, takes a seat and stretches his arms across the table. I place my hands in his and stare into his beautiful blue eyes. His face muscles tense and his jaw muscle twitches, a sign of stress, something I have come to recognize. A tear slides out of my eye and slowly makes it way down my check, making Mitch relax a bit, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Finally, unable to bear it any longer I blurt, "Oh what is it Mitch, please tell me."

He lowers his head, releases a lengthy sigh, as if he had been holding his breath, and says, "Mia, my father is not really dead."

"Wha-" I instinctively reach to my mouth, but he tightens his hold on me, refusing to let go.

"Just let me finish," he interrupts as he squeezes my hands tight, crushing my finger bones. "This is so hard for me to talk about."

I force myself to take long deep breaths, and stare deep into his eyes, cloudy and filled with torment.

"He's in prison Mia, he's a criminal…a bad criminal, and I visited him one last time…for closure."

In the moment of silence that ensues I want to ask what his father had done, but realizing that may be insensitive, I say, "Look at me Mitch. I understand…you're an outstanding person and you don't want people to know about your father." My heart begins to slow; this is not as bad as I thought.

He lifts his head, a small, uncomfortable smile creeps across his face. "Mia, it's not just that-" He begins to make pounding motions with his hands, jarring me to my core until he finally releases me and slumps back into his chair. "My father and I…well…we used to be partners in crime."

I can feel my face drop and it's not lost on Mitch.

"I was young, I…I was lost…I didn't know what to do." His eyes radiate a pain I have never before seen.

I am flooded with mixed emotions and a chill passes through me reaching right into my bones. "You have a criminal record?" I ask incredulously.

"A juvenile criminal record," he returns.

"What does that even mean? You're forgiven now as an adult?" I shake my head from side to side.

"I was ordered to go back to school, and I worked my way up to where I am now. It was a struggle, but I did it and I'm proud for that, but my record will always follow me."

"Mitch," I ask with a tremble in my voice, "What did you do?"

"I committed robberies with my father…he had a drug addiction and we were very poor."

He rises from his seat and drags it over to my side. He turns my chair to face him with a strength that sends tremors of excitement through me. I tell myself that now is not the moment, and try hard to focus on the information that floods me.

"Mia, please forgive me," he says, his eyes as pleading as his voice.

"Wha…what kind of robberies did you commit? Did you hurt people?" My voice is muted, scared and I hate that I sound that way. Mitch is a good man and I should not hold his past against him. But he withheld this information from me and tells me now that I am in love with him. If he had told me earlier I may have never imagined a life with him. He did this on purpose to hook me, manipulate me.

"No Mia, baby," he reaches to my face, but I turn away.

Mitch raises a hand to his mouth and muffles a sob, making my heart ache.

"I never hurt anyone Mia you've got to believe me. My father had the gun and held our victims while I stole everything I could get my hands on. I…I didn't feel like I had a choice. He…he threatened me Mia. He beat my mother for Christ's sake!"

He springs from his chair, causing it to tumble over. Pacing the room, he pushes his fingers through his hair and releases a string of obscenities.

"I regret what I did everyday Mia," he says with a tremble in his voice. "It was a bad thing, but I was young. I'm not the same person I used to be. I never wanted to commit those crimes."

I stiffen in my chair, wipe the salty tears from my face, and with a calm voice say, "Come here, sit next to me."

Mitch races to my side, lifts his chair, placing it in front of me and taking a seat. His eyes radiate a hope that makes my heart sing.

"I do believe you Mitch. You were my hero in need and I know you're a good person. I just don't understand why you kept this secret from me."

"I didn't want to scare you away Mia. I love you so much and our relationship is still young…I was planning on telling you eventually…I was."

In an instant I understand his fear. It's the same fear I have of losing him that drives me to continue a sadistic relationship with Lewis. It's all for a greater good, I tell myself.

I grab his hands. "So how did your father land in prison and not you?"

"I was a kid when I go caught and served some time in juvey. My mom had enough and kicked him out. It was the only time she actually stood up to that bastard, but I thought he'd be back, but he left for Alabama and met with a new partner in crime. This time someone did get hurt…killed." He stops and begins to massage his temples, as if this simple act will make all the pain of remembering go away.

"It's okay Mitch." I reach across, wrapping my arms around him, holding tight.

As we embrace each other in silence a thought suddenly pops into my head, and leaves my mouth before I can stop it. "Mitch, you didn't stab Ben did you?"

He pulls away, grabbing me by the shoulders, his fingers digging like talons into my flesh. "Mia, I told you I'm a different person. I didn't stab Ben. How could you even think that?"

"I…I'm sorry, you're right." I shake my head in disappointment over my poor choice of words. "Please Mitch, it's all so much. Forgive me."

"Ya know that crazy bastard stabbed himself. And the damn military is on my ass now because of your _boyfriend's_ murder."

I slowly rise to my feet, breaking free from Mitch's grasp. Ignoring the boyfriend comment that cut into me like a barb at the end of a whip, I pursue a more important concern. "What happened? The Colonel went to Texas to collect evidence didn't he?"

"The local police called me in and took DNA, Mia. They know about my juvenile record. I've spent years trying to put this behind me, but now my legal career is in jeopardy." He stands tall, and his expression darkens. "Where ever you go Mia, trouble seems to follow." He turns, exasperated and begins to pace.

"Oh, I see," I practically hiss, "I'm at fault now."

He turns to me, his brows arched slightly. "No, Mia…no I didn't mean that…I love you Mia."

"Then why are you just standing there instead of hugging me and telling me everything is going to be okay?" My legs grow weak and I fall back into my chair. "Why can't you just tell me you forgive me? I forgive you."

Mitch slowly approaches me, crouches down and grabs my hands. "Thank you for forgiving me…Really, but I'm sorry…I truly need some more time to digest what you've done to me."

I stare into his eyes, looking for a sign, but see nothing more than a flicker of uncertainty.

"I understand," I finally say with a low, wounded tone. "But…do you think you'll ever forgive me?" I lower my head and begin to sob.

"I want to Mia, I want to…I do love you and just need a little time."

"A little time?" I echo softly.

"Mia, with you being away from me and going to Japan…I can't help but wonder if the distance will kill our love…I'll always love you, but I can't trust you'll feel the same."

I take a deep breath, look into Mitch's face and realize he is right. I thought I loved Logan, and at one point in time I even thought I loved Ben. What do I know about love? I have a man here who is willing to be my side and I made bad choices that could cost our relationship. Loosing Mitch, I now realize, would be the worst thing in the world. My heart pounds out on control and the pain in my chest is practically unbearable. I cannot live without him.

"I want to be with you Mitch," I snivel, "and only you. I know I went off path, but I'm certain of my love for you."

"I just worry about the distance Mia…I wish you weren't going overseas…I fear it may kill our relationship."

"It won't Mitch," I say with conviction. "I'm certain of my love for you and I won't let any distance…time…person…these damn murders…anything…kill our relationship."

He casts me a weak smile as if humored by my strong will, yet doubtful I have enough control to exercise my beliefs. But I have a plan in motion, and I am going to see it through.

"Mia, I'll recover…I will…I love you that much, but I just need a little time to think, to mourn and get past this." He opens his arms and motions me to fall into his chest. I rise to my feet and throw myself into his warm hold.

"I love you Mitch and I'll prove it."

He kisses the top of my head as I tighten my grip around him. I want to make love to him, feel him on top of me, warm and moist. The small patches of hair on his chest brushing over my nipples. I imagine the smell of his skin and aftershave rising from his body in the heat of passion, arousing my senses. I lift my head and meet his lips, but only for a brief moment before he pulls away.

"It's too soon Mia. I came here so you could tell me in person, and so that I could share my past with you."

I take a step back, roiling in my emotions. My desire for him is so strong, but I have hurt him deeply and must now play by his terms.

"Mia," he finally says, breaking the torment in my head. "I'll get past this, I will. Just promise me…no more secrets…not more lies."

I nod my head, thinking, just one more secret.

I return to base, planning on spending a weekend alone, Mitch having decided to take the first flight back to Texas. My thoughts turn to Colonel Powell and the urge to call him to follow through on the final phase of my plan overwhelms me, but is soon quelled by the hand of guilt that squeezes my heart and constricts my throat.

Instead I wait it out, determined to confront the Colonel Monday. I spend a torturous weekend wondering if Mitch will truly forgive me. Sure he will take me in and love me and be there for me, but will he ever really get past what I have done to him. Will emptiness follow in our relationship, leaving me feeling broken and incomplete?

Monday finally arrives and I walk the base looking for the Colonel, determined to set the final phase of my plan in motion. Being unsuccessful in spotting him, I decide to wait out my free time on a bench just outside the main office building.

Eventually I see a towering figure of a man leave the building, a man of such great stature that it can only be the Colonel. I straighten up and focus my eyes. It is Lewis and he is approaching me.

I stand and salute. "Good afternoon Colonel Powell."

"You can relax Mia," he says, his voice filled with humor. "I guess you want to talk to me. You've been coming here every day for the past three days now."

I look at the building and make a start to speak, but he continues. "I can see you from my office. So what is it? Did you miss me?"

I flash my most seductive smile and say, "I did Colonel…when you're away I couldn't stop thinking about you." My eyes drift up and down his body. "I miss your well endowed member."

"My penis," he interjects as a giant grin spreads across his face. I nod my head and he plunges on, "We still have some unfinished business Mia. How 'bout we meet this Friday."

"That seems so long to wait," I say with a pout, pressing my lips into a playful frown.

He makes a start to reach for me, but stops. "I know. I've just had so much work to do. I've been taking it home with me and I hate to do that."

"Maybe you can take a little break; ya know to clear your mind from everything that's on your plate." I tilt my head to the side and run my tongue across my upper lip.

Lewis' eyes come alive with lust and I know I have him under my spell. "Okay, tonight at seven then, Airman Capelli will be waiting for you."

"Oh what happened to Averell?" I ask.

"I fired him. He told you too much and could no longer be trusted." He says, not a hint of remorse in his voice.

I am shocked, knowing how much Airmen Averell protected the Colonel and how much he needed the money. But I can only blame myself for lying about what he had told me. I dismiss it, realizing that it is only a game, that the airmen would have thrown me under the bus if it were his ass on the line.

I salute the Colonel again, then turn and walk away, hoping my moment of weakness was not transparent.

The afternoon seems to drag on and as seven approaches I find myself paralyzed, my self-confidence faltering. I push my guilt aside, convincing myself that I am doing the right thing. I am doing this for Mitch, not just for me. I love Mitch and I want to be with him now and forever. I muster just enough strength to throw on some revealing, tight clothing and race out the door before changing my mind.

There is a chill in the air as the day turns into night. Dark shadows begin to dance in corners and around tress where the dull rays of the street lamps do not reach. In the distance I eye a car, another small beat-up piece of junk. _Just another broke soldier, _I think.

As I climb down the stairs of the dormitory, a motion off to the side were the shadows loom, catches my eye. Turning to look, I see nothing. _Must be my imagination. _I continue walking, my breath catching in my throat when a hand reaches out, grabbing me, nearly jerking me off my feet.

I gasp and prepare to scream when a soft, moist hand falls over my mouth. The man pulls me off into the shadows as I struggle to free myself.

"Don't scream," he says. "I'm not going to hurt you…I just want to know why."

I look up into his face, blinking several times to focus my eyes in the dark. "Bill?"

He releases his hold on me. "Why did you lie to the Colonel about me?" he asks in barely contained fury.

"I'm sorry," I say, wanting to deny the accusation at first, but deciding to tell the truth. "I wanted to know what he was up to and you wouldn't tell me, but I had enough to make a stab in the dark. We should've been on the same team Bill. Why'd you hold back on me-"

"Because the others stabbed me in the back," he cuts in sharply. "No one can be trusted. You fucking bitch you've really fucked me up now." He takes a step closer to me, his fists clinched.

I cringe from him, but then anger washes over me. "How dare you talk to me like that." I say with contempt, forcing myself to stand tall and challenge him. "I'm in just as much trouble with the Colonel as you. My career is dangling too. This could've gone much easier if you'd trusted me."

He releases a mocking laugh, pushes his fingers through his hair and glances over at the car that waits for me. "I guess the new errand boy is here for you," he spits out with as much sarcasm he can muster.

"Yeah…look Bill…I was shocked when he told me he'd fired you. It wasn't my intention...you've got to believe me."

"Ya know they've been questioning me," he says, pausing to read my expression, "about the complaints that've been filed against him."

"Other girls he's abused?" I ask in as soft a tone as possible, hoping not to scare him off subject.

"Yep, and I covered for that bastard." He begins to shift from foot to foot, exhales heavily and plunges on, "Just…if I tell them about you…will you come clean…cover for me?"

A smile stretches across my face and I say, "I will, but give me a few days Bill. I want to secure one last favor from Lewis."

"I don't have a few days," he says with a rise in his voice.

"Well, what if you do tell them about me and I'm questioned? Will I even be believed? I mean the Colonel has been doing this for a while, right? And he hasn't been punished yet."

Bill reaches to his head and scratches. "You're right; the complaints have gone nowhere."

"Of course not, he's powerful and was able to wiggle his way out of it. We need evidence." I take a pause to think then ask, "Who complained anyway?"

"Carol," he blurts. "And others."

"Carol, huh?" I release a smirk. "And who's been questioning you?"

"Major General McClernand…but why does that matter?"

"Because if you want me to help you Bill…I'll need to know all the players. Now if the Colonel gets angry about me knowing something I shouldn't, I can blame Carol."

A sly smile, as if bells just went off in his head, creeps across his face. "Can I trust you?"

"You've nothing to lose, right?"

Bill nods.

"Then you'll have to, but you must give me a few days or I can't help you."

"Alright," he says with an uncertain nod of the head. "I…I'm sorry I frightened you."

He turns, as if ashamed to face me after asking such a huge favor, and walks off disappearing into the shadows.

I approach the car that waits for me with caution, hoping Airman Capelli saw nothing. When I pull at the handle the door sticks. I yank harder, and it barely gives, creaking open with an eerie sound of scraping metal and rusty bolts. Hopping in I keep my eyes on the new errand boy, paranoia rushing over me.

"Hello," I say with more bravado than what I feel.

"Evening," he returns as he looks at me with a furrowed brow and large, wondering eyes.

My stomach tightens into a knot and I want to flee, but I ignore my sixth sense, thinking about the plan and me and Mitch being together at last. Slowly, I close the door, and sit as far away from the airman as possible.

"Everything okay?" he asks, his eyes boring into me. A shroud of creepiness looms over him and I feel scared, now wondering if the Colonel has set me up on purpose to teach me a lesson.

I sit quietly as he drives me along the route to the Colonel's house. When we finally arrive I hop out of the car, and for the first time, find myself rushing toward Lewis' front door. I ring the bell and anxiously wait for him to answer. When he does, I slip past him, not once looking back at the airman.

"You okay?" asks Lewis with just enough smugness to convince me he sent that creep on purpose.

"I'm fine," I say. "Just a little tired from all the training." I flash a saccharine smile.

"Well, we could always save this for the weekend."

My stomach lurches and although I do not feel like putting on a false front and behaving seductively; I remember my plan and my love for Mitch. _The sooner I get this over with the better!_

"But I missed you so much," I say playfully as I turn on my smile and race toward him, throwing myself into his broad chest.

Lewis embraces me, his large hands feeling like giant paws on my back. He plants his lips on mine and we kiss passionately. Breaking free, I tell him I feel thirsty and ask for some wine.

"I thought it gave you migraines," he says sarcastically.

"It does, if I drink too much," I return.

He releases a smirk, confident he has caught me in a lie.

"I'll get our drinks. You stay here and remove your clothes. I've got something for you."

I gulp hard and ask, "Um, can I use your bathroom?"

"Of course," he says.

I try to quell my nerves and wait until he turns to the kitchen before I race to the bathroom on legs so shaky I feel like they could fold at any moment. Once I lock myself in the bathroom I open the medicine cabinet and find a stash of prescription pills. My heart leaps and a genuine smile plasters my face. _Bingo, _I think when I find a vial of sedatives, the one I'm certain he gave me the last time I was here. I pop the top and take out a pill, but think; maybe I need two – at least two.

Lewis calls me from the other room. I slip the pills in my bra, take a deep breath and leave the bathroom.

Lewis is stretched out on the sofa and looks at me with smiling, lustful eyes. Although the thought of making love to him, with his large penis that leaves me feeling just as much pleasure as pain, his expression makes my blood run cold.

I join him on the sofa and he begins to pull at my shirt with large, clumsy hands. Squirming away from him, I reach for my glass of wine and gulp it down.

"Mia, take off your clothes," he says, his eyes burning with anger, even though he maintains a calm voice.

"Can I have a refill?" I ask as casually as possible. "Please, I'm a little scared…not knowing what you've planned…and excited."

His expression relaxes and he leaves the room with my glass. I quickly remove the pills from my bra and crush them on the table with the glass airplane figurine. Carefully, I slide the powdery bits into the palm of my hand and drop them into Lewis' wine. Hearing him approaching, I rub at the residue that remains on the table until it disappears.

Lewis enters just as I fall back on the sofa. He hands me my wine and tells me again to remove my clothes, and lets me know he really means it this time. He leaves, heading for the bedroom.

I feel awkward, uncomfortable and resist the urge to run out of the house. Convincing myself the sedatives will kick in soon, I remove my clothes quickly, not wanting to awaken the anger that stirs just beneath the Colonel's surface.

He returns, and his hands are full with an assortment of black leather clothing.

"I want you to put these on," he says as he holds out his hands.

I gingerly take the items and sort through them, finding a riveted black leather bra top, fishnet thigh highs and crotch-less panties.

"I want to role play, Mia," he says with barely contained excitement.

I put on the bra; adjust my breasts in the push-up cups and actually like it. Then, I pull on the thigh highs, being careful to align the seam up the back of my legs. Last, I pull on the panties. They fit a little tight and the plastic feel to them makes it hard for me to slide them over my hips.

Lewis watches, speechless and then begins to remove his shirt. He fumbles with the buttons and I wonder if the sedatives are starting to work, but I soon realize it's only his excitement that makes him falter. I hear the seams rip as he frantically pulls at his clothes, all the while continuing to eye me like a dirty old man.

Nausea overtakes me and I have to close my eyes monetarily, adjust the perverseness somewhere in my soul, and take a deep breath. The wave of sickness passes and I open my eyes. What I see makes me want to laugh and cry at the same time.

Lewis dons a black fishnet shirt and tight leather shorts. A smile begins to play at the corners of my mouth, but it drops when my eyes drift to the whip in his hand. It sparkles in the light as if a million tiny needles are embedded in the thin leather straps that fountain from the tightly bound leather handle.

Lewis holds it over his shoulder and snaps it at me, causing me to jump. My heart pounds furiously and I want to run, but I know there is no point. He is bigger than me, stronger and faster. _Stick to the plan Mia. Block it out._ A cruel laugh escapes his twisted mouth as he takes a step closer and this time he strikes me with the whip.

A burning sensation ripples through my shoulder. It feels like the sting of a thousand fire ants, but the pain lasts for only a moment, surprising me. He strikes me again and then reaches for my arm, grabs me, pulls me into his chest and begins to nibble my neck with a ferociousness that somehow turns me on. I want to be angry, I want to hate his touch, but he has managed to mix the right amount of pain with pleasure, making this a moment of ecstasy.

My ears echo with a moaning that I soon recognize to be coming from me. Lewis breaks free and I look into his eyes, puzzled, surprised and desiring more.

"Enjoying yourself Mia?" he asks with a smugness that would normally piss me off. I nod my head, and hold back from begging him to continue.

"I picked this baby up overseas," he says with a smile as he takes a step back, admiring the whip. "It's really quite unique ya know." He holds it out for me to see. "Look at the handle."

I notice the handle is longer than necessary, and curves up at the end, the tip shaped like the head of a penis.

"It's the G stimulator. Do you know what that is?"

"No," I practically whisper.

"It finds the G spot Mia," he says and then laughs.

Without thinking I reach out and touch the handle. I have always heard of the G spot, but thought it never really existed. Feeling like a child with a new toy, my excitement level rises to the point where I think I can orgasm without any further stimulation.

"I can't wait to try it," I say without thinking.

Lewis grabs my wrist and drags me into the bedroom, pushing me face first against the wall. A long wooden board, about a half foot in width is nailed to the wall, inches above my head. A long chain dangles from a screw eye, and at the end is a leather cuff, which Lewis secures around my wrist.

The thought of being restrained terrifies me and I want to resist, but the frantic pace in which he operates tells me that he is set on a plan and will not tolerate being taken off path. He rushes to my ankles, binding them, and then finishes with my other wrist.

I writhe in the restraints, and while they are not uncomfortable, I feel trapped. As tendrils of panic began to take hold of me, a burning sting rips through my buttocks as if a thousand tiny pinpoints penetrate my skin, only to be torn away, taking some skin with it. He continues to whip me and the beating becomes more severe. Soon the pain does not subside and I cry out for him to stop.

Lewis stops and glares at me with evil eyes. I am instantly reminded of Ben and terror shoots through me. I struggle to free myself, but he comes from behind, presses my body against the wall, making me immobile and whispers in my ear. "You've be a bad girl Mia. I'm sorry I had to punish you."

"Please Lewis," I beg. "It's not fun anymore. You're hurting me."

He begins to kiss my neck with a gentleness that surprises me. Rubbing his pelvis along my backside I can feel his erection. My body is warm and moist, and trickles of sweat pour down my back, only its blood, fresh salty, irony blood. The smell makes me sick, but I choke down the feeling.

Lewis moves his lips to my shoulders, planting tiny kisses and then slithers his warm, wet tongue down my bloody back. As he goes lower I begin to shutter, which only makes him laugh.

"Relax Mia, it's time for me to forgive you and pleasure you."

I try to close my legs, but they are stretched far apart. His hands fall on my buttocks and he spreads them apart. His tongue finds its way to my anus and he begins to pulsate his tongue as he moves it in a circular motion. He slips a finger into my rectum and rotates, making the circle wider and wider until he can fit in another finger. And then something hard and large enters me – the handle of the whip.

Lewis moves it in and out in perfect rhythm and I begin to moan as I approach climax. Then he inserts his penis in my vagina and begins to pump as he continues moving the handle in and out. The pleasure is so intense and we climax together.

He removes the whip and falls against me, slamming me hard into the wall.

I attempt to rub my sore head, but the restraints hold me back.

"Why'd you do that?" I ask as I strain to twist my head over my shoulder.

Lewis stumbles backward, shakes his head like a drunken bear and says, "Boy Mia you've outdone yourself. I'm worn-" He stumbles back toward the bed and collapses on the mattress.

_Oh No_, I think as look over my shoulder at the bed where Lewis lays stretched out, ridiculous in his getup.

I pull at my restraints, but they do not give. Flashbacks of the apartment and Ben begin to consume me. I close my eyes tight and shake my head, as if this simple act will clear away all the bad memories. I convince myself that I must be calm and figure a way out of my confinement.

Examining the cuffs closely I notice they have a belt like fastener and I draw my head and hand closer together. I manage to grip the end of the strap with my teeth. With some effort I pull my hand in farther, strain my neck and grasp the tiny bump of the strap that goes through the buckle with my teeth. I jerk my head back, pulling out the strap a little. I rest and then continue until it is free of the buckle. A sigh of relief escapes me, but is short lived when I hear Lewis mumble. I catch my breath, holding it until he turns on his side and falls back asleep.

Cautiously, I reach away from the jangling chain and free my ankles. With some effort I stretch across and release my other hand. I take a moment to rub at my wrists and rejoice in my freedom. I want to run out of this house, but my plan is already set in motion and I remind myself of that I subjected myself to Lewis' abuse for the love of Mitch.

I quietly approach Lewis and lean in close, listening to his gentle snores. Satisfied he is out like a rock, I creep off to the other room. My eyes dart around, looking for evidence, but there is no desk, no papers, everything is neat and clean. Then I turn my sights on a second room, a bedroom, turned office, I hope. I rush to it, panicked over the thought of the Colonel waking up and catching my riffling through his belongings. Taking a deep breath, I gently push open the door, and to my relief it is set-up as an office. I run to the small metal desk pushed-up in a corner, and flick on the small lamp that sits on top.

Neatly stacked papers on top are clearly about the murder investigation. I glance through the official looking reports. They are scientific, containing information I do not understand. Words like telogen and mitochondrial DNA. I skim over them and understand now that they are the lab results based on the hair evidence. I skip to the summary and read 'Inconclusive'.

My heart lurches and once again I am struck by nausea. It is a major disappointment, a blow of epic proportions. I was hoping the evidence pointed to Ben, but the thought of Mitch being a murderer still lingers in the back of my mind. He was a criminal after all, he has the tendency. No, impossible, Mitch is a good guy.

My thoughts suddenly turn to Logan. Although I have managed to push aside my unresolved feelings for him, I still need to know who murdered him. The fact is I did love Logan, or at least thought I did. It is all so confusing, and I try to repress the images of him, his smiling face, and his wild sexy green eyes. The stress of it has finally worn me down and I crumble into a sobbing ball on the floor and let the tears that have been building all night, drain from my body.

Moment later I straighten-up and remind myself that I am on a mission for me and Mitch. Returning to the desk, I continue searching through the papers and come across something that stops me dead in my tracks.

"Son of a bitch," I say, "he's put in for a transfer."

Colonel Powell will be shipping out to another base in just two weeks. Anger rises inside as I think about what he has done to me. So that is his plan, run from his actions and take refuge in a new place. What will happen to me?

I wipe the last remaining tears from my eyes, go to the other room, fish my phone out of my purse and enter the master bedroom. Lewis is still lying on his side, snoring. I look at him with contempt in my eyes and hate in my heart. I start taking pictures of him in his ridiculous costume and smile at the thought of his expression if he discovered Major General McClernand had a copy of them.

Realizing his face may not be clear in the photos; I go to his side and try to flip him on his back. He is dead weight and I struggle to turn him. He stirs, which makes me panic. I jump back, get in as close as possible and snap a picture.

"What's going on," he mumbles as he lifts up on shaky elbows.

"You've been sleeping," I say.

"How'd you get…weren't you-"

"You released me before you passed out," I say matter-of-factly.

He pulls himself upright and rubs at his eyes. "Why're you lying to me Mia…what'd you do to me?"

"I gave you a good time…I thought," I say with a slight hiss.

"You bitch," he says as he attempts to stand, falling back down on the bed. "You drugged me."

"Maybe I did Colonel, but you gave me no choice."

"What're talking about?" he asks. His eyes bore through me as his expression darkens.

"I want you to approve me a transfer."

"Oh God Mia, what's gotten into you this time? I can't approve you a-"

"Shut the fuck up!" I snap with such force the Colonel jumps. "I'm tired of playing these games with you. You either give me what I want or I turn you in for sexual abuse."

"Ha!" he returns. "You've nothing on me. I'll ruin you." His voice is deep, resonating through the room, sending tremors of fear through me, but my thoughts turn to Mitch, giving me the resolve to carry out my plan.

"Oh, well, thing is Lewis I've been talking a lot to Carol and she wants me to back her complaint and well," – I turn my back to him and rub at the dried blood flaking off my shoulder – "I have the evidence to prove it…oh." – I wave my phone – "not to mention the pictures."

Lewis lunges for my phone, but I pull it away. "Doesn't matter Lewis, all the pictures instantly upload to my online account."

"You bitch!" He rises to his feet and slaps me across the face, sending me spinning and tumbling over.

I look up from the floor and see him rearing toward me, but he starts swaying, like a giant ready to fall. Stumbling back, he sits on the bed. I reach to my cheek and rub at the warm, burning spot, repressing the tears that want to burst forth. "How dare you strike me! All I want is a transfer, and I know you can do it."

"How can I trust you," he hisses.

"You can't, but I'll for sure fuck you any which way I can if I don't get what I want."

"You play dirty Mia. I've got to admire that. I'm a criminal profiler and you've certainly fooled me. Where is it you want to go?"

His eyes radiate anger and I fear his change in tone may be a trap to get me off guard, but there is no point in over thinking it now.

"Edwards' air force base," I say.

"Oh, California. Any particular reason why?" He chuckles.

"Never mind why, just do it. I want the proof…signed papers…something." My voice is higher pitched than intended, making my insecurity obvious.

"I know you want to be with your boyfriend." He snickers, then continues, "When you get your papers, I want you to delete those photos."

"I will," I say.

"But there's really no way of me knowing if you have…so I've a proposition for you." He pushes his hands into the bed, lifting himself to his feet.

I take a step back. My throat constricts, making it difficult for me to speak. "What?"

"I want pictures of you in comprising positions."

"But why?" I ask with a quiver in my voice.

"Well, if you turn me in…your boyfriend…_the love of your life_…might be interested in our little escapade here." He dangles his fingers in an effeminate manner.

My body turns cold and I start to shiver. "How can I trust you won't show him the pictures?"

He shrugs and smiles. "You can't…just like I can't trust you."

I take a moment to think. "No you're more powerful than me…Give me what I want and I'll delete the pictures with you."

Lewis shakes his head. "Mia, you think I'm that stupid?"

_Of course not!_

"Okay, but I want my transfer confirmed first."

"Agreed," he says. "And once this is over I never want to see you again."

"Not a problem," I hiss.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

"I can't lead you when you can't do anything right!" I bark at my flight as I pace the line of soldiers.

I stop next to Lieutenant Porter, my face twisting into a cruel scowl, and yell, "Lt. Porter here is a real piece of work. He thinks he's so smart, thinks he's going to rebel and get away with it. Well, I've got some news for you Porter." I step in closer and peer up into his face. "I ain't your momma and this ain't your comfy little trailer park home. Your behavior doesn't fly with me. Do you hear me!"

"Yes, Lt. Barton!" he yells back, his face expressionless, but his eyes reflecting a rage that strangely excites me.

"I'm not so sure," I return. "Step out here and face your flight."

"Ma'am," he practically whispers.

"It's Lt. Barton, now do as I say!"

He steps out of formation and turns to face the flight.

"Repeat after me," I belt with a sadistic tone. "I, Lt. Porter am a certifiable idiot."

The lieutenant glowers, and after a moment's hesitation repeats my words.

When he finishes I continue the abuse. "I think I'm so smart, but I've been failing tests and making my flight look bad!"

Once again he echoes my words.

"Okay, get back in formation," I say. "So Lieutenant Porter here needs help from his flight. So this evening…yep…cancel all your plans. You're going to meet in the dormitory break room and study…starting at nineteen hundred hours until twenty-one hundred hours. And you're going to continue this every night until Lt. Porter passes his tests."

I can feel the tension in the soldiers, and take pleasure knowing that Lt. Porter, like I, will experience the feeling of being an outcast. It is cruel of me to subject him to such abuse, but his build, his eyes, his expressions are so much like Logan's, stirring the unresolved anger inside me. My eyes linger on the lieutenant as he marches past, his gait eerily similar to Logan's, like a reminder from the grave.

"Lt. Barton," shouts an officer, snapping me from my thoughts. "Major Joseph Johnston wants to see you immediately."

Butterflies flutter in my stomach and a smile creeps across my face as I clutch at the idea of a transfer, like a child clinging to a bag of candy.

"Afternoon Colonel Powel, please take a seat," Says Major General McClernand.

Lewis wipes away the sweat that beads on his brow and falls into the plush chair across from the Major General's desk.

"So what can you tell me about these murders?" He releases an exasperated sigh. "People want answers, especially the families and the FBI is threatening to get involved if this isn't resolved soon."

Lewis straightens, realizing this is not a casual meeting. "I've gone over the reports and the hair evidence proved inconclusive." He pauses for a moment, then continues, "Interesting point, though, is the discovery of synthetic hairs."

"So what does that mean?" asks the Major General.

"Well, someone was wearing a wig….whether it was one of the queers at the bar or the perpetrator of the crime."

"Hmm. Ballou told me McIntyre visited the Ram Rod bar frequently," he says, thinking out loud. "It's a shame he had such a weight problem and had to be – shall we say – retired."

"Yes Sir, it is a shame, but his work was, well, shoddy at best. Anyway, I followed up on that point," he responds, holding back the anger he feels for the Major General communicating to one of his subordinates. "I got a description of the man he left the bar with. He's described as having short hair, fit build, about six feet tall. Some bruising on the face-"

"Bruising?" echoes the Major General. "There're only two suspects on our list, so which one is it?"

"Well, thing is both suspects have bruising…Apparently they like to fight, mostly with each other." He releases a smirk.

"This is not amusing Lewis," says McClernand, stiffening in his seat. "This is obviously some kind of love triangle between the suspects and Lt. Barton."

Lewis casts his eyes to the floor, peering at his shiny shoes, his thoughts turning to Mia's cleanly shaved crotch.

"Yes, I think you're right," he says, pushing thoughts of her from his head, and forcing himself to look up and make eye contact. "But Lt. Barton was not having a relationship with Lt. McCoy."

"It's rumored they were though," says the Major General.

"I know, but there's no evidence to support that." He rubs his sweaty hands on his neatly pressed pants, hoping it is never discovered that he destroyed a few pages of evidence.

The Major General presses his index fingers into a triangle and rests them on his upper lip. He releases a heavy sigh, places his palms on the desk and continues. "What about the phone records?"

"I went through them and it seems they had a friendship, but Lt. McCoy was pushing for more. Given his position of leadership over Lt. Barton, that put her in a touchy situation, but she never had, at least, the evidence indicates, any sexual relations with the man."

"One of the suspects must have believed there was an affair, of that I'm certain and that's why two of our officers are dead." He says with a rise in his voice and raps his fist on the desk.

Lewis casts a weak smile, nods his head and says, "I think you're right, Sir."

McClernand shifts forward, rests his elbows on the table and folds his hands in front. "Lewis, Airman Averell broke under questioning and tells me you've been having an affair with Lt. Barton. This could compromise the case."

"Totally false Sir," says Lewis, then he clears his throat and continues, "Airman Averell's changing his story now? It doesn't surprise me after I stopped giving him jobs when I caught him stealing from me."

"I'll be talking to Lt. Barton for clarification." His eyes are not as forgiving as they used to be, and for the first time, Lewis' cocky demeanor is replaced with fear.

"That's a good idea," says Colonel Powell as he rests back in his seat and forces a smile, resisting the urge to wipe away the trickle of sweat oozing down his temple.

I knock lightly on Major Joseph Johnston's door. He looks up from his desk, and I salute.

"Come on in Lt. Barton, have a seat." He motions to the chair across from his desk. "So, it seems we need to fill a spot at Edward's Air force Base and you're the best fit for the job. Your test scores have been exceptional, and your leadership skills have improved quite a bit. Congratulations Lt. Barton, you've turned into a fine soldier."

"Thank you, Sir," I say, beaming with delight.

"So as soon as you graduate at the end of the week, you'll have a short holiday break and then be shipped out to Edward's. You may leave now." He motions to the door as if anxious to be rid of me.

"Thank you, Sir." I salute and leave, barely able to control myself from skipping for joy.

When I step outside the office building a cool breeze passes over me. The day is beautiful and I only wish Mitch were here to celebrate with me. He will forgive me and we will be together at last. I can feel it in my bones.

I continue at a jaunty pace to the cafeteria, hoping to catch a bite of food before my next class. As I round the building a weak voice calls from behind. I turn to see Airman Averell.

"Bill," I say, surprised, used to only seeing him in the late evening hours. The sun hits his face, making his oily skin shine. A pug comes to mind, the rolls of his chubby face more clear, aging him by at least ten years

"I spoke to the Major General about your affair with Colonel Powell," he says shakily. "I hope you're going to back me up like you promised."

"I will," I say with a smile.

He hesitates a moment, furrowing his brows, making him more wrinkly than I thought possible. Nodding his head he shifts his weight uncomfortably, then turns and saunters away.

I continue to the cafeteria and when I am finished eating race off to my next class. Sitting quietly in my seat I stare off dreamily toward the front of the room. The instructor drones on and I do not hear a word he says, my thoughts consumed with Lt. Porter. I am certain he is younger than Logan and perhaps even myself. He is cocky, arrogant, and unsure of himself, like a lot of young men. I feel the corners of my mouth twist into a smile as I imagine myself instructing him in the art of love. I lift my pen to my mouth, begin to chew at the cap and fall deep into fantasy.

"Lt. Barton," says the instructor, startling me back to reality.

I shift my eyes to the front where another office stands with the instructor.

"Yes sir," I blurt out, causing some snickering.

"You're wanted, you may leave." He motions to the door.

Confused, I gather my books and race out of the classroom on the heels of the other officer.

"Major General McClernand needs to see you," He turns and says with little emotion before scampering away.

My stomach seizes and I am overcome with nausea. I am certain the stress of my situation and uncharacteristic behavior has resulted in digestive problems. Feeling sick all the time now, I realize I must relax and force myself to eat more.

Pushing my discomfort to the back of my mind, I walk over to the office building once again, my legs so shaky I can barely stand. I know the Major General wants to question me about my affair with Colonel Powell, and I promised Bill I would vouch for him.

Soon, panic takes hold of me, turning my mind into a mix of conflicting thoughts and emotions. I am certain that if Mitch were here he could resolve this for me quickly, and in the best way possible. But this is my own little conundrum I have created for myself, trying so hard to be smart, savvy and manipulative. I swallow hard as I knock on the Major General's door, prepared to do whatever necessary to save my ass.

A graying haired man peers up from his desk and I salute. He waves a dismissive hand and tells me to take a seat.

I plunk down in the chair across from his desk and ease back into the comforting cushions. A wave of sleepiness passes over me as I feel myself shutting down, and I have to push myself to stay alert.

"Lt. Barton," he says, his eyes boring through me. "As you well know there have been murders of our own, and one on this base."

My neck and face muscles are paralyzed and all I can do is nod my head.

"Well, we believe these murders were the result of you having an affair with Lt. McCoy." His expression is serious, sending a cold chill through my body.

With a shaky voice I say, "I was not involved with Lt. McCoy."

The room falls silent as his eyes penetrate so hard I can feel them. I am seized by the urge to confess and be done with it. I want to tell him I was romantically involved with Logan and I thought I loved him and him me. It is my fault he was murdered and I need to be punished for it. But as soon as I have these thoughts I shake them from my head. My time here is almost done. I will be going to California where I plan to spend my life with Mitch, grounded, reasonable Mitch who will keep me out of trouble and make me happier than I ever imagined.

"Lt. Barton, it's come to my attention that you're having relations with Colonel Powell, is this true?"

I cast my eyes down and immediately curse myself for this obvious act of deception. Why can't I just look at him and lie? Why must I let the strings of guilt manipulate me?

"I'm sorry that you've heard such an ugly thing," I sputter, angry that my voice in not as firm as I intend.

"Are you sure? If you're found guilty of perjury, you'll be court marshaled." His voice is hard and unyielding.

I gulp hard, look into the Major General's stern face and say, "I'm sorry, I'm a bit overwhelmed with everything that has been going on. I…I…liked Lt. McCoy…We we're friends. I was very sad when he died…and hurt that I've been accused of having an affair with him…and now Colonel Powell?" I gasp as the stress makes me break, and begin to sob.

"That'll be all then Lt. Barton," Says the Major General, without a care in the world for what I am feeling.

I wipe away the tears that fall down my cheeks and salute. When I leave the building I suddenly feel lighter and the cool breeze in the air takes away the heat in my face. My heart pounds fast and I think of Mitch. Reaching into my pocket I pull out my cell phone and text him the good news about my transfer. I am certain he will forgive me now that there will be no distance between us. Anxious for his reply, and knowing cell phones are not permitted in the classrooms, I take a risk by setting it to vibrate.

The day wears on to night and still no word from Mitch. Sitting alone in my room, lost in my thoughts I decide to call. I get voicemail. My finger presses his name again, and just as quickly strikes the end button. If he wants to talk to me he will, I convince myself, feeling miserable that he did not respond immediately to the good news. My mind begins to wander; perhaps he wants me to go to Japan to have an excuse to end our relationship once and for all.

My mind is clouded and I need to distract myself from my feelings. Throwing myself back on the mattress, I begin to stare at the ceiling, counting the tiles like I have done so many times before. Folding my hands over my eyes, I tell myself this is ridiculous, I cannot stop my life for Mitch. It has been so long since I had fun, I need to get out, I convince myself, and stop thinking, hoping, praying that Mitch forgive me. In my heart I know he will, but my nagging miserable negative me won't let go of the possibility that he has moved on.

I spring from the bed, pull on a jacket and head for the door, having decided to take a walk under the full moon that glows tonight. As I enter the dorm hall I have to giggle thinking, 'full moon – when all the crazies are out.' - Definitely knowing I must have a few screws loose.

"Lt. Barton," says a meek voice and I turn to see Lt. Porter. He approaches with caution and salutes.

"At ease soldier," I say. "What can I do for you?"

He looks back at the members of his flight. They sit quietly, studying like ordered. Pushing his hands into his pockets he begins to shift from foot to foot, then tilting his head away from the group he asks, "Can we talk?"

"I was just getting ready to take a walk," I say with as comforting a voice as possible. "Join me Porter."

I can feel the tension drain from him as he removes his hands from his pockets, slouches a little and smiles.

I question my motives as I resist the urge to fling my arms around his neck and kiss him. 'He's not Logan', I remind myself. Yet my mind wanders back to him, the same muscular build, green eyes, stubbly hair and cocky gait.

We exit the dorm and slowly make our way down the sidewalk. I purposely direct us toward the classroom building.

Porter stops, lets his breath out like a deflating balloon and faces me. Even under the dim light of the moon, and weak street lamps, I can see his serious expression relax. "Umm, Lt. Barton, I know my grades have been slipping, but I only actually failed one test. I sure'd appreciate it if you'd stop holding the first day of training against me."

"You understand that I had to do that in order to gain respect from the flight, right?" I ask with half-taunting humor.

"I do and I'm sorry. Really I am." His voice resonates with regret.

"What about your grades?" I ask, feeling disappointed he is not as smart as Logan.

"I've been having trouble focusing," he stammers. "My entire flight hates me and it's hard for me to deal with that."

I swallow hard, knowing exactly how he feels, and it is my fault. I reach out and grab his warm, slippery hand. It goes limp and I am certain he does not know how to react, but he does not pull away.

"I'm sorry I've been hard on you Porter," I say. "It's just you remind me of someone I used to know and well" – I step in closer, gently clasping his other hand – "We had a lot of fun together, but it ended badly."

He releases a nervous chuckle, squeezes my hands and says, "Oh wow, I…I thought you hated me."

"No, I don't," I say as I move his hands behind me. He takes the cue and places them on my hips, pulling me into his pelvis, but falls quiet, unsure of his next move.

I break the uncomfortable silence by blurting out what is on my mind. "I know it's crazy and totally against the rules, but I want to make wild passionate love to you." Images of Mitch's hurt eyes flash through my head, but I ignore them. "Follow me." I break away from his hold and look around, as if suddenly aware that people may be watching.

I lead the way and Porter follows closely behind, maybe a little too close. I quicken my pace, but he keeps up with me. When I round the building to the back door that remains unlocked, I stop and grab Porter as he turns the corner. He falls in close to me, wrapping his arms around my waist. I cup his face in my hands and plant my lips on his.

We kiss passionately for several minutes, his silky tongue darting in and out of my mouth. I am surprised at what a good kisser he is, considering his youth and my expectation of little sexual experience.

I try to break free, but he presses me against the cold stucco building and begins pushing his pelvis hard against my abdomen. He is fully erect and I want to reach into his pants, but the moon glows bright and we are not completely obscured by the cover of darkness.

Finally, I manage to break free of Porter. "Let's go inside," I say breathlessly.

He makes a shuddering sigh as if a cold chill passes through his body, and then follows me through the door. We walk quietly hand in hand, navigating through the dark halls until we find an open classroom. I am relieved it is not the same one Logan and I had sex in, not wanting to compare the two men, even though I subconsciously continue to do so.

As soon as we enter the room he begins to pull off his shirt and I do the same. My skin prickles and my body begins to tremble in anticipation. I rush to him, grab at his belt and release the buckle. He fumbles clumsily at my breasts, but I push him away and continue to remove his pants. I grasp his penis and begin to move my hand in a slow rhythmic motion. He is fully erect, and while not as large as the Colonel, I am strangely thankful, sex sometimes having been uncomfortable with Lewis' penis pounding hard against my cervix.

Porter's breath grows heavy and small, sexy moans begin to escape him. I release his penis and begin to unbutton my pants, but this time he pushes away my hands and roughly jerks at the zipper, pulling them down. I kick off my boots and slip away from my clothes, throw my arms over his shoulders and wrap my legs around his waist.

His middle is firm and tight, just as I had hoped. He steps forward, gently placing me on the instructor's desk. He pivots over, and I gasp as my bare skin touches the cold metal surface. Porter chuckles, promises to warm me up and enters me with a rough thrust. Reaching under and behind my legs, he pulls me close and begins to slam me with all the energy I expect from a man his age. As I teeter on the edge of the desk, him standing over me, I look up into his face between our throws of passion and momentarily see Logan. I look away, shaking the fantasy and concentrate on Porter. He is not Logan, he is gentler and to the point. Even though I prefer sex that mixes pleasure with pain, I find myself highly aroused by his flexing muscles as he shifts his pelvis like a well experienced sex machine. I fix my eyes on his pecs and abdominals pull my legs further back and cry out as I begin to orgasm. Porter pumps harder and faster, then grabs me by the shoulders, pushing in as far as he can. I reach behind, gripping his buttocks and pull. I move my hips upward, then push down hard, causing a low guttural moan to escape him.

When he finishes he releases a small victory cry. I am irritated and humored at the same time by his immaturity, but given his skill, I instantly forgive him. He slips his hands under my arms and pulls me up. His lips find mine and he begins kissing me with more passion than I had felt with Logan. Throwing my arms around his neck I lock my legs around his waist and pull him in close. My lips find their way down his warm, salty neck. His softening penis throbs back to life and I start to shift my body back, pulling him down with me. Just as my skin is about to meet the cold metal desk the door flies open with a bang and a flash of light blinds me.

Gasping, I shift myself upright and cross my arms over my chest. Porter releases his hold on me and gives chase to a dark shadow that floats just as quickly out of the room as it did in. I rush to the door and poke out my head. I see Porter in pursuit, but the other person is too fast, and exits the building like a ghost in the night.

A visibly shaken Porter returns, pushing past me into the room. He quickly pulls on his clothes, all the while mumbling obscenities.

I stand still, paralyzed, scared, and wondering who would do such a thing.

"Get dressed Lt. Barton," says Porter, his voice grating with anger. "I think we need to leave before this joker sends the MP's after us."

"Mia," I whisper as I stare blankly at Porter, his scowl barely visible in the moonlight. He shakes his head in confusion. "You can call me Mia now, when we are alone, ok?"

He grasps me by the shoulders, his fingers digging into my flesh. "Mia, we need to leave."

I shake my head, trying to break free from the shock that has taken a cruel hold on me. "You're right." I collect my clothes and slowly pull them on. When I finish I look up at Porter and he stares back at me as if he is looking at a crazy person.

I am shaken by the thought that someone is watching me and will now kill Porter. "I'm sorry," I stammer and take a step toward him. He raises his arms and holds me back. It is more than I can take and I crumble into a sobbing mess.

"What's going on Mia?" he asks as his arms grow limp and he lets me fall into his chest.

My heart pounds with a strange panic. I cannot let him know my situation. It's too dangerous I swallow hard, collect myself and say. "I…I just think I've pissed off one too many people. I'm sorry you're now part of it."

"Who do you think it is?" he demands, giving me a little shake.

"I'm not sure," I say with honesty.

A sigh escapes him. "Mia, this is bad. We can both be kicked out of the military for this."

"I Know," I say with a quiver in my voice. "I'll find out who it is and take care of it. I promise."

A small moan escapes him, revealing his lack of confidence in my ability to resolve the situation. Still, he holds me tight, the warmth of his body comforting me. He begins to stroke my hair and I snuggle into his chest, close my eyes and imagine he is Logan.

After several minutes he places his hands on my shoulders, waking me from my fantasy. He pushes me back and says, "We need to go."

We leave together, not once touching. I exit the building first and Porter follows behind at a distance. When I enter the dorm, all my trainees' eyes shift in my direction, causing a wave of paranoia to rush over me. My eyes drift from face to face, searching for the culprit, but they shrink away from contact. Convinced none of them is guilty, my thoughts turn to Ben, and then to Lewis.

I enter my room, slamming the door with such force that I momentarily panic, thinking someone will be knocking at any minute to see what the commotion is all about. I plop on my bed and stare at the ceiling tiles yet again. A spell of dizziness overcomes me and I realize that I have been holding my breath. I release my lungs and make an effort to slow the rise in my chest. To my relief no one knocks on my door, but just as I start to relax, my stomach seizes when my phone bleeps.

Rushing over to my nightstand I wake the phone and see a text message from Mitch.

'Hey Mia, been busy, sorry…r u there?'

The corners of my mouth begin to turn up, then fall short of a smile as the hand of guilt takes hold of me. My affair with Porter was wrong, spontaneous, out of character. Have I turned in a whore? Why can't I just commit myself to Mitch? Convincing myself it was nothing more than a fling during a moment of weakness, I respond.

'I'm here.'

'Can I call?' he texts.

Although I long to hear his voice, I hesitate, worried he will read right through my guilt and discover my indiscretion. Who could have taken that picture? I rack my brains, my concentration being broken when my phone jingles.

I swallow hard and answer. "Mitch…It's so nice to hear your voice."

"You too, Mia," he says jubilantly. "I got your message about your transfer. I'm sorry I didn't respond sooner…I've really been having a hard time dealing with your infidelity…I am beginning to understand it though…the repressed sexual desires after years of an abusive relationship…the distance-"

"Mitch, I love you," I say with a heavy heart. "I…I've made mistakes, but I love you and only you." I push my fingers through my hair, unconsciously digging my nails into my scalp. How could I have been unfaithful to him once again after I promised him no more men, no more lies?

"Mia, I love you too. I'm hurt, but I'll get past it because I know you love me." His voice is low and rings with a sadness that makes my heart sink. "But enough about that that" – his voice perks up – "How lucky with the transfer, How'd you manage that?"

"Umm…well my grades are really good and one of the instructors kind of took me under his wing, and I mentioned my desire to got to Edwards and he looked into it and there was an opening," I say with as much enthusiasm as I can muster.

"That's terrific!"

I pay careful attention to the inflection of his voice, thinking I hear a hint of suspicion, but conclude I am only being paranoid. It's behind me now, what is done is done, water under the bridge. It is time for me to move forward, but my thoughts turn to Porter. The sex I had with him was wild, crazy, spur of the moment. The excitement of breaking the rules made it spectacular. His youthful energy and tenderness afterward were more than what I expected. I want to make love to him again, but shake the thought from my head. I tell myself it's an infatuation – a fantasy – he is not Logan. Deep inside I know he is his own person and I desire him – Porter. He was sweet, tender and loved me in a painless way that I found different; yet just as pleasurable as the kinky sex I had with Logan, and then Lewis. But my heart belongs to Mitch and I cannot let another man complicate – cloud my thoughts.

"Mitch…should I put in for on base housing?" I ask cautiously.

"No Mia, I've prepared a room for you…I want you to stay with me."

"A room," I echo, my voice deflated.

"Temporary," Mitch throws in. "Until we get past this."

I release a disheartening sigh, and then an inexplicable burning rage rips through me. "Mitch, you lied to me and I forgave you. Why is this so hard for you to forgive me?" I yell.

"Mia," he practically gasps, clearly taken aback by my outburst. "This is different, you were unfaithful to me."

"It's different, but it's still deception," I fire back. "You told me that night in the bar…remember that night Mitch? You…you told me that your father abused your mother and you cried when you told me he died and you were happy. You cried Mitch…crocodile tears, right?"

"Mia, what's going on with you?" he asks, his voice rising dangerously. "I confessed my lie to you and you forgave me, but it does not compare-"

"You missed the point," I shoot back with a venomous hiss. "You fucking cried about it…cried Mitch…You didn't have to go so far as to cry, put on an act for me….How many other lies have you told me?"

"I have no other lies Mia," He retorts. "I didn't want to scare you away. It was wrong I know, but apparently you're not ready to forgive me. You shouldn't have told me you forgave me if you didn't mean it…feel it."

"I do forgive you Mitch," I respond with a quiver in my voice. "But the degree of your act to convince me is what bothers me…the act Mitch." I take a deep breath and before I can stop myself I blurt, "Did you kill Logan?"

The line falls silent.

"Mia, goddammit, I didn't kill your lover. I love you Mia, but not enough to murder. If you love me and want to be with me then it'll happen for us. I'm certainly not going to run around knocking off men just to win your heart." He pauses to catch his breath, then plunges on, "I…I don't understand Mia…you think you can be unfaithful to me, and I should just ignore it? You're trying too hard to convince yourself that I'm in the wrong…I mean listen to yourself…Do you really think me capable of murder? Didn't I rescue you from Ben? Isn't Ben a sociopath? If anyone is to blame Mia it's you. If you had pressed charges against Ben and had him put away your boyfriend would still be alive." Another pause, this one more uncomfortable than the first. "You know…I'm sorry…I can't believe it never occurred to me before. You're in love with Logan…a dead man and blame me."

I shake my head as if my scalp is crawling with biting insects. "No, Mitch…no you're wrong. I've always loved you and only you." My words dissolve into a choking sob as my body heaves with emotion. "I'm sorry…you're right I'm out of line…I'm just so lonely here and confused…I worry the killer may strike again."

Once again the line falls silent and then a heavy sigh. "Mia, why would the killer strike again?" he asks in barely contained fury. "Are there other men you haven't told me about?"

"Yeah Mitch, just one…you," I practically whisper. "He knows I love you and he may kill you next."

"God Mia, oh God, you're afraid of losing me aren't you?" His voice takes a softer tone.

"I'm very afraid…as long as I believe you may be the killer I know you're safe, it makes no sense and it's wrong…I know," I gasp for air, finding it difficult to breathe through my shallow sobs and stuffy nose. "I just want you to be safe and I want you to love me. None of this separate room, time to get over it shit…I'm sorry…I'm suffering, can't you see that?"

"I…I do Mia," He releases a small chuckle. "I'm a smart guy…at law, but I'm no shrink. I'm sorry. I imagine you're under a lot of stress…Mia…come to California…come live me…my room…my…no…our bed. I want to feel your warmth, wrap my arms around you, and make love to you."

"Do you forgive me Mitch?" I ask, my heart blooming with hope.

"I…I do Mia."

"I love you Mitch." I smile as I wipe away the tears in my eyes. "Mitch, the open house is Thursday and I graduate Friday…can I expect to see you? Can you make it?"

"I'm not sure if I can make it Thursday, but I'll be there for your graduation Mia," he says. "I've…I've got to go…I love you."

The lines drops just as I whisper, "me too."

Placing my phone on the nightstand I sit in silent thought for several minutes. Although I want to see Porter again, I am determined to resist. I do love Mitch and he loves me. I know that now and will never let an argument cloud my heart again. Still I worry about the picture and the person who could ruin me. I'm certain now it was Lewis' handiwork and am determined to find him in the morning and confirm it.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

I stir in my bed, my eyes burning from lack of sleep, having had yet another restless night. I drag myself from under the warm comfort of my sheets, settling my feet on the floor. It is late and I spring up and begin racing around, my head in a fog, as I get ready to start the day.

My arms and legs are clumsy and I am too exhausted to torture my flight. When I address the neatly lined soldiers, my sights focus on Porter. He remains expressionless and I admire his ability to stick to anonymity, something I feel I had failed at with Logan. He stands stiff, tall, his chest puffed out, and looking hotter than ever. Images of him hovering over me, pleasuring me with a rough yet gentle passion, take over. I blink the dryness out of my eyes and close them momentarily, pushing thoughts of him out of my head.

After walking my flight to their class, I follow my schedule in a zombie like state. At lunch I drink several cups of coffee in an attempt to bring myself back to life. After several minutes, and realizing I have limited time, I convince myself the caffeine has kicked-in and set out in search of Lewis.

Staring mindlessly ahead as I approach the office building, the glare from the sun bounces off it, making me squint, stinging my eyes as if covered with freshly torn scabs. I take a seat on a nearby bench and try to imagine which window belongs to Lewis. Several minutes pass and I have the feeling he is watching me and won't come out because he knows why I am here.

My heart begins to accelerate and anger rushes over me. I must talk to him and resolve this issue before Mitch arrives for my graduation. If he were to find out I was unfaithful yet again, it'd be a certain end to our relationship. I work myself up, spring from the bench and march toward the building. Once inside I locate the Colonel on the office directory. I pound up three flights of stairs and turn the corner into an open area where an enlisted soldier sits like Cerberus, guarding the gates of the underworld.

"Where are you going?" she asks angrily as I storm past her.

I stop, turning to face her, my eyes narrowing. "It's Lt. Barton to you!" I snap back with enough force to make her jump.

"But you can't go back into the office unless you have an appointment," she returns with a gentler tone.

"Well I am, and no one is going to stop me!" I plunge forward until I reach Colonel Lewis' door. It's open and I can hear him talking on the phone, his voice loud and cocky. My blood boils and I step inside, arms crossed. His eyes dart up and a look of confusion mixed with shock spreads across his face.

"I'll call you back," he says quickly as he hangs up the phone. He pushes back his chair and rises from his desk, his hatred for me radiating outward like a million tiny needles. He approaches, and for a brief moment I fear he is going to strike me, but he only closes the door. Returning to his chair, he slouches back and asks me to be seated.

"I don't want to be seated," I sneer. "I want to know why you took that picture!"

He exhales as if annoyed by a childish tantrum. "Mia, we can talk, but you have to keep it down." A creepy smile spreads across his cheeks and he points to the chair in front of me.

"I'm not fucking sitting down. Now you answer me or I'll go straight to the Major General and tell him everything. You've more to lose." I spit through gritted teeth.

His amused smile twists into an evil grin as he leans forward, tenting his fingers thoughtfully, his eyes fixed on me. "Mia, you have more to lose. How would _Mitch_ feel if he saw you fucking Lt. Porter? Hmmm, just think about that…He'll dump your skanky ass and then you'll be kicked out of the military. You're looking at a court martial. What're your prospects after that? You'll be spent, broken."

My legs began to falter and I allow myself to fall back into the chair.

"That's better now," he says with a bombastic tone. "You took pictures of me, and not trusting you, I took a picture of you. So are we square on this Mia? You don't fuck with me and I won't fuck with you."

I nod my head absently, realizing he has won this battle.

Swallowing hard I say, "Then I guess we'll have to trust each other."

"Yes Mia we will, and it's not that hard. You're shipping out soon, I saw to that for you. You're happy with that, right?" He says in a patronizing tone.

I nod my head and he continues. "I'm having my own transfer. We'll never have to think about this ugly little matter again."

I want to spring from the chair and flee, but I fear my legs won't work. Instead I remain seated and concentrate on my breathing, hoping to clam my shaky nerves.

"You can leave now Mia," he says and waves a hand as if shooing away an annoying insect.

I am stunned and angry at the same time, finding myself unable to react to his offensiveness. Figuring now is a good time to leave; I push up from the chair, stabilize my wobbly legs, and take a step when there is a light knock on the door. Colonel Powell calls the person in and a meek girl probably not much younger than me quietly enters. She throws back her shoulders, sticking out her breasts, and casts him an awkward, yet flirtatious smile. It occurs to me that he is working his magic on her, and even though he has won his battle with me, I take comfort in knowing it is a only a matter of time before he gets punished for his countless indiscretions.

"Here're your tickets for Texas," she says as she saunters over to him and lightly sets them on his desk.

She turns to leave with a coquettish gait, his eyes falling on her ass. She whips back her head, catching him, smiles and says, "Should I close the door?" She casts me a challenging stare.

I suppress the urge to yell out, 'been there, done that, and it ain't worth the trouble.'

"No, Lt. Barton here is just leaving." He says with a spring in his voice that reminds me of our first encounter.

After giving her ample time to clear earshot I ask, "Texas?"

"You can leave now, Mia," he says with a stern voice.

"Yeah, okay, I get it. I'm outta the loop on this now."

His eyes shift to his phone. He puts the receiver to his ear and begins to dial.

Feeling defeated and unfulfilled in my dealings with the Colonel, I leave, passing the girl in the front, ignoring her burning stare.

My bags are packed and I'm exhausted, allowing myself time to rest just enough to feel the sadness I have been desperately repressing creep into my soul. I stare out my dorm window, watching the darkness take over the day, my face warming as my eyes begin to bulge with tears. Then suddenly I picture Logan standing outside, under the dim light of the street lamps. He stares up at me, flashing his golden smile, and waves. It seems so real that I blink several times, sending salty streams cascading down my cheeks, but his image remains. And just when I think I am losing my mind, it occurs to me that it is Porter.

I shift my eyes to the suitcase that rests atop Katie's bed, resembling an overstuffed burrito and visions of my weeks of training flash through my head, and it finally sinks in that it's over. Surviving my time here and being transferred to Edward's Air Force Base was the plan, and I succeeded, yet happiness escapes me. And now that I want to have a good cry, Porter shows up.

I step away from the window, croon my neck and take another peek. He is still there and waves again. Part of me is happy to see him, but I worry my heart may deceive me and allow another indiscretion. I could just ignore him, but something tells me he is not going away.

Disgusted, I grab my jacket and storm out of my room. When I get to the dormitory hall I see the rest of Porter's flight studying like instructed, but their discomfort over my presence is transparent, and I fear they may realize I am having a relationship with Porter. No, we had a fling, a one night encounter, it meant nothing and it's impossible that anyone, except for the Colonel and one of his ass kissers, know about it. Deciding it no longer matters; I clear the worry from my head, and burst through the front doors.

Porter rests against the railing leading up the stairs. His eyes turn to me and a broad smile wreathes his face.

"What's up?" I ask coldly.

"Just wondering what happened with the picture," He returns, his tone wounded.

I relax a little, and then realizing I am a too close for my own comfort, take a step back. "I'm being blackmailed by a high ranking officer."

Porter straightens and takes a step toward me, the smile having left his face. "Why Mia?"

"It doesn't matter. I've compromising photos of him and he felt the need to have something on me…that's all. No need for you to worry. I spoke to him and as long as I don't mess with him, he won't mess with me," I say matter-of-factly, hoping to make an escape before the feelings of lust that stir inside me cloud my judgment.

"Who was it Mia?" He asks, his eyes shining like evening stars.

"It doesn't matter," I return, bothered by his gossipy curiosity.

"Okay, I trust you," he says in a playful tone.

"Well, Porter, I need to finish packing. I wish you the best-"

He raises a finger to my mouth, grabs my hand and pulls me into his chest. I push away and remind him that even though I am leaving, he is not, and it could be very bad if someone notices.

"Let's go out to the rope fields," he says and a coy grin spreads across his face.

"Porter, I can't," I blurt, going against what my body desires.

My thirst for him is overwhelming and I can feel my underpants grow moist at the thought of making love to him. 'Just one more time,' I tell myself. But I realize that even if I do submit to my lust, I will want it again and again. No, I must not continue.

His smile goes limp. "Why not?"

My breath leaves me, my mouth becomes dry and I find it difficult to talk. All I can do is gaze into his sad eyes, and wrinkle my face.

"Can we just take a walk…away from the dorm and talk?" he asks, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

"No, Porter, I'm sorry," I say and step back from him.

"C'mon," he says and tilts his head in a childlike way that makes my heart sink.

"Look, I realize what you're doing. And yes, if you can get me away from here I may fall into your arms and make love to you, but there's no point in continuing," I say, instantly hating the whiny inflection of my voice.

"One last time and I'll never bother you again, if that's what you want," he pleads.

My heart pounds out of control and I want to reach out and touch him, but resist. "I'm sorry, Good night," I practically whisper as I turn and walk back to the dorm.

"Mia, can I at least get your number," he calls after me.

I shake my head and race back to my room, locking the door behind me, as if this simple act will keep all the bad feelings out.

Scanning the room, I am satisfied that everything is packed. I eye my phone, and just as I reach for it, pull back my hand. My body aches for Porter and I convince myself that once my hormones settle, the dull ache in my heart will subside. It would have been easier if he had cast me away like used goods, more painful perhaps, but a certain end to the relationship - fling.

I wonder how casual sex can fully satisfy anyone's needs. The chase is always exhilarating; my thoughts on my target and my dreams consumed with wild throws of passion and ground shaking orgasms. But when the moment finally arrives there is a chance that the sex is not as gratifying as expected. So what then, give him another try? And when it's good there is the unyielding desire for more. Either way, emotions that defy logic get pulled in, creating confusion and an overall feeling of emptiness. It's a never ending torturous cycle. A cycle I find difficult to control.

I run my hands over my tired face, then reach for my phone and dial Mitch.

"Hey Mia," he says jovially.

"Mitch, when're you arriving?" I ask feeling an inexplicable twinge of panic.

"Very early tomorrow morning, Mia so I guess I'll see you at graduation."

The line falls silent. "Mitch, we're finally going to be together," I say with hope in my heart that he is just as excited as me.

"I Know and I can't wait…I love you so much Mia…Despite everything that's happened I know you're the one for me and I'll always love you no matter what…I want to put all this behind us and never talk about it again." His voice sings with sincerity, pulling at my heart strings as the hand of guilt clamps around it.

"Thank you Mitch. I know I've messed up big time, but I've always loved you. Logan was nothing to me-"

"I don't really believe that Mia, but I understand you're a very sweet, emotional girl."

"You need to believe it Mitch because it's true. I don't deny my love was tested, but I always went back to you. I love you with all my soul," I say with conviction.

"Sure, I believe you Mia," he says in a not so convincing tone. "Let's…let's just leave this behind us ok?"

I can sense his discomfort and so badly want him to believe that he has always been the one for me, but if he wants to put it behind us then that is what I must do. I will, in time, prove my love for him.

"I can't wait to see you, hold you, kiss you," I say dreamily as I picture his face inches from my own.

"Me too Mia, I've really missed you," he says, his voice trailing off. "I need to get up early tomorrow Mia, and it's a long flight-"

"I understand," I interrupt, feeling hurt that he is cutting our conversation short. "I guess you need to get some rest."

"Good Night, Mia."

"Good night," I echo.

The line goes dead and I am left with a seed of doubt germinating in my heart.

I smooth out one last wrinkle on my dress blues as I gaze ay my reflection in the mirror. Taking a deep breath, I place the cap on my head and adjust it. It is too big and square, making me look like a munchkin, and wisps of hair fall out from under the loose fit. I try to push the dangling strands behind my ears, which only seems to make more fall out. After much trial I decide enough is enough and leave my room.

Standing outside the dormitory, I watch a sea of blue officers walk the grounds with loved ones surrounding them. Everyone is happy, but I am here, alone.

I pull out my phone and text Mitch, 'Where r u?'

'Running late, b there soon,' he responds.

I anxiously shift my weight from foot to foot as I watch groups of people make their way to the auditorium for the commissioning ceremony.

'got to go,' I text.

'here,' he responds.

I look up, raise a hand to my brow to ward off the rays of sun that are just beginning to break through the clouds, and see Mitch in the distance. My nervousness dissolves, and I feel my own smile takes its place.

We race toward each other and embrace. Gazing up into his sparkling blue eyes a warm comfort falls over me like a fresh sheet out of the dryer.

"I'm sorry I couldn't make the open house yesterday Mia," he says, then gives me a peck on the lips.

"It's okay, I understand," I say with some hesitation, then continue, "You know you could've told me you weren't going to make it. I mean I didn't hear from you."

Mitch releases me from his arms, grabs my hand and gently leads me toward the auditorium. "Look Mia, something came up."

I look into his face as we continue to walk at a brisk pace, and feel my palms grow moist with sweat as I register his seriousness by the deep furrowing of his brow.

"What is it Mitch?" I ask, terrified of his response.

"It's your day Mia. We can talk about it after the ceremony."

I stop dead in my tracks, yanking my hand from his. "You can't do this to me," I say in a low, wounded tone. "You cannot expect me to sit through this entire ceremony knowing something serious has happened. Mitch…" I take a pause, fighting back the tears that want to gush from me. "Have you changed your mind about me…us?"

Mitch's expression relaxes, becoming soft and compassionate. He cups my face in his hands and begins to shake his head. "Oh, no Mia, I haven't changed my mind about us. It's just…I wasn't able to get here sooner because I was brought in for questioning about another murder."

My eyes grow wide and my heart begins to hammer. "Another murder?" I echo.

"Yes," says Mitch with a tone of regret. "I'm sorry Mia…I didn't want to spring this on you until after the ceremony-"

"Who?" I interrupt.

"Kevin."

It takes me a moment to remember Kevin, one of the partner's at the law firm. "But why?" I ask, feeling truly baffled.

"Look, let's keep walking," he says with urgency as he tugs on my hand. We fall back into a quick pace and he continues, "He had given Ben a pay advance to purchase the engagement ring he bought for you. When Ben was fired, Kevin wanted the money back. They got into an argument over the ring and…well…Kevin was murdered."

Pangs of guilt rise in my chest, making it difficult for me to breathe. Suddenly, I wish Mitch had told me after the ceremony, now I will not enjoy the full experience of my accomplishment. Ben, money grubbing, tight-wad Ben, had gone into dept to purchase me a beautiful ring. Deep in his heart, under all the rage, he really does love me. My logical voice counters, that love must not only be felt, but expressed in a way that makes the other person feel good. I shake all feelings of remorse from my head. Dumping Ben was the best thing I ever did.

We climb the stairs to the auditorium and push through the doors. I am directed to sit with my flight off to the side, next to the stage. Mitch releases my hand, making me feel cold and naked, as he is guided into the audience.

I take my seat and stare blankly at the graying men, adorned with countless shiny medals, as they give their speeches and dole out recognition to exceptional trainees. Their voices are distant echoes and I try hard to focus so I can step up when my name is called.

I should be rejoicing in Mitch's vindication from guilt, but panic overwhelms me as it suddenly occurs to me that Mitch had the ring. Yes, Ben left it for me to keep that day when he came to Mitch's house. The feeling of anxiety that took over when I could not find it still burns fresh in my mind. Growing dizzy, I grasp the edges of my chair to ground myself. I take long, deep breaths as I try to reason what happened. Perhaps Ben broke into Mitch's home and took the ring, but the alarm would have gone off. Then the unthinkable crosses my mind. Mitch could have killed Kevin and then planted the ring on him to implicate Ben. No, Mitch would never do something like that. My face grows warm as anger rises inside me over still having doubts about Mitch. I still cannot trust myself, especially my heart, in matters of love.

"Lt. Mia Barton," I hear ring in the distance, snapping me from my thoughts.

All eyes fall on me as I slowly rise on shaky legs and approach the stern faced officer on stage. Holding up my hand I recite the oath with a quiver in my voice. When I finish he asks if there is anyone I would like to pin on my gold bars.

My eyes drift over the faces in the audience, until they fall on Mitch. I manage to force a smile and he rises and walks onto the stage. He holds my hand and stares at me with a giant grin on his face, like a proud parent at a college graduation. My cheeks flush as I desperately suppress the tears that want to burst forth. Taking the pin from the superior officer, he calmly attaches it to my jacket.

My heart pounds in my ears and my fingertips.

Mitch grabs my hand, tilts his head slightly and says, "Congratulations, Mia. I'm so proud of you. I love you."

I nod my head and move my lips to say, but can only mouth 'I love you too.'

Some officers perform the first salute and I return to my seat, desperate for the ceremony to end. I have so many questions, which for now must remain unanswered. My mind is a whirl of mixed emotions. I do not want to accept that Ben killed three people in an attempt to regain my love. Surely, I would have known after all the years we spent together if he had murderous tendencies, but if it were not him, then who? Mitch?

My stomach rumbles and I start to feel queasy. It is all I can do to keep a straight posture, wanting so badly to double over and vomit. Finally, after what feels like hours, we are shuffled away to prepare for the graduation parade.

As I exit the auditorium, I turn back, looking for Mitch, wanting so badly for him to wrap his strong, protective arms around me. Everything is going to be okay, I convince myself. My time at Gunther will be over in a few hours and I will be home with Mitch, packing for California.

I take my place in the line of soldiers and do my part in the parade. I look out at the sea of faces, and cannot find Mitch. Still feeling sick, it takes all my effort to stand military straight and march, but somehow I manage. And when the parade finally ends I rush back to my dormitory, knowing no one in my flight cares to say goodbye to me.

I wait in front of the dorm, leaning against the rail that leads up the stairs. The same rail Porter had been resting on when he asked to keep in touch. A pang of remorse rips through me when I think about the steamy sex we had. It was only physical, nothing more, I tell myself.

"Mia, you okay?"' says a familiar voice, snapping me from my thoughts.

I drag my eyes up to meet Porter's gaze. "I'm fine," I say.

"You can call me Jake now," he says with a smile. His hands are shoved in his pockets, a nervous trait I have quickly come to recognize.

I release a small giggle, momentarily loosing myself. He relaxes and reaches out for my hand, but I pull away.

He releases the air from his lungs like a slowly deflating balloon and says, "Mia, so that's it, you just used me?"

"I…I'm leaving now and we'll probably never see each other again," I say as my eyes dart around for Mitch. "Look, what I did was spur of the moment…I don't know what got into me. It was rash, impulsive, and unacceptable."

"That guy…the one I saw you with…your husband?" he inquires.

"Boyfriend," I shoot out a little too quickly, which makes his smile broaden.

"Can I have your number Mia?" he asks, his voice guttural and sexy.

Tingly feelings of lust pulse through my body like an electrical current, culminating at my clitoris, instantly exciting me.

Looking past him and spying Mitch in the distance, I blurt, "Give me your number…Jake."

I pull out my phone and rapidly type in his number.

"I'll text you," I say as I nervously eye Mitch. "But you've got to leave now."

"I understand, and congratulations Mia." He looks over his shoulder, snaps his head back to me and adds, "Take care of yourself," his tone indicative of a deeper message.

My brow furrows and I open my mouth to speak, but he turns and walks away, passing Mitch without a word.

"Who's that?" asks Mitch, lifting an eyebrow.

"One of my trainees," I say, trying to control the anxiety in my voice.

Mitch loosely drapes my hands in his and says, "Oh? If I didn't know any better I'd say he has a bit of a crush on you."

"Perhaps," I say with an impassive smile.

"I love you Mia," he says, bringing me back to my senses.

I throw my arms around his neck and plant my lips on his. "I love you too and I cannot wait to spend my life with you."

"Me too," he says and gives me a little squeeze, the muscularity of his arms making my pulse quicken.

Stealthily shifting Jake to the back of my mind, I make a start to ask him more questions about the murder, but he seems so happy that I do not want to spoil the moment. My graduation ceremony was already a disaster, why make things worse?

We race to my room, like happy children at play. Mitch shuts and locks the door behind us and turns to me with lustful eyes. I stare at him, my heart pounding like a hammer and my underwear growing moist. He pulls his shirt over his head, exposing his finely tuned six-pack and sinewy obliques. He has been working out and I find myself desiring him even more than ever.

I remove my jacket and quickly unbutton and throw off my blouse. Mitch removes his pants, his full erection showing through his snug fitting boxer shorts. Before I can grasp my skirt's button between my fingers and twist, he pushes me back on the mattress and pulls it off. He takes a moment to look at my lacey undergarments and a coy smile spreads across his face.

"Ah Mia, you're so beautiful," he says in awe, making me feel like the luckiest woman alive. "Those dress blues do you little justice, but this lingerie is terrific."

"I saved it for you," I say and plant my lips on his.

He reaches behind my back, unhooks my bra, removes it and casts it aside. He grabs my full breasts in his hands and begins to squeeze. At first he is gentle and then grows rougher, causing me some discomfort. And, as if he can read my body's cues, he lightens his touch and puts my nipple in his mouth. He sucks and rotates his tongue in a playful manner that makes me spread my legs and arch back. I want to tell him to penetrate me now, but the build-up, the teasing, only makes me hotter and promises an earth shattering orgasm.

Mitch moves from one breast to the next and then pulls at my underwear, sliding it over my hips, his fingertips brushing my skin, causing it to prickle. Then he removes his boxers, adjusts himself on top of me, bites my neck and penetrates me at the same time. The pain mixed with pleasure radiates through my body like an explosion of happiness. Reaching behind, I grab his buttocks and pull him in as hard as I can with each powerful thrust. His heavy breath warms my ear as small moans escape him. The rhythm quickens and the moans grow louder. I throw my head back and cry out as I orgasm.

When we finish we lay, holding each other. Mitch strokes my hair, kisses the top of my head and asks, "How was it Mia?"

"Terrific," I say. "You knew exactly how to please me."

He releases a chuckle and says, "Don't think I forgot our conversation about things we want to try with each other."

"But we never discussed it," I say.

"I know, but I figured it out, Mia."

"How?" I ask, lifting up on an elbow, staring deep into his sparkling eyes.

Mitch releases an uncomfortable sigh and says, "They say the other man…ya know…was into kinky stuff…so I thought-"

"It's okay, Mitch," I interrupt, sensing his unease. "I understand and I'm glad we did this. You're the best thing that ever happened to me and I love you."

Mitch stretches an arm behind his head and asks, "When did you first realize you loved me?"

A small giggle escapes me, and I trace a finger down his cheek to his chin, my nail occasionally catching on his stubble. "The very first time I saw you, outside the office building. You were wearing a suit and I tried to imagine what you looked like beneath it. I loved the way you shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. I thought it was so cute…and you were so nice."

Mitch bursts with a laugh. "You made me so nervous Mia. And I too fell in love with you at that very moment."

He folds me into his arms and gives me a squeeze. "We need to get going or we'll miss our flight."

I pull myself away from his warm embrace, feeling like child being torn from its mother. I slowly put on my clothes, savoring every minute of Mitch's ripped body as he dresses. After slipping on his shoes, he grabs my bags, and together we leave. I take one last look inside my room before closing the door behind me. Pangs of guilt take a vicious hold of me as I remember Katie. She was a good person and didn't deserve what happened to her. Part of me wishes we had remained friends and stayed in touch, but the less reminders I have of my time here, the better, I tell myself, even though my heart still clings to the memories of me and Logan together.

"Everything okay?" asks Mitch when I finally turn away from the door.

"Fine," I lie.

We leave the dormitory and as I climb down the stairs I am suddenly hit with nausea. My throat constricts and my stomach lurches, causing me to race to the rail, double over and vomit.

The dull thud of my bags hitting the ground echoes in my head, and Mitch races to my side.

"Mia are you okay?" he asks, rubbing my back as I continue to spew the contents of my stomach.

I straighten up, wipe my mouth and turn to Mitch. "I feel much better now. I've needed to do that all morning."

"You have a virus?" he asks, his eyes glistening with concern.

"No, I think it's just nerves," I say and run the sleeve of my shirt over my mouth.

"Maybe we should head out tomorrow and stay here for the night?" he suggests, but I refuse, wanting to return to Texas, pack my things and leave that state for good.

Once we settle in the plane, making ourselves as comfortable as possible in the confining seats, I turn to Mitch, and begin to talk, but stop.

"What is it Mia?" he asks.

My eyes drift down, examining every detail of the gaudy carpet, but I cannot bring myself to speak.

Mitch grabs my hand, giving it a firm squeeze. "Are you feeling sick again?" he asks. "Maybe you should sit on the outside." He begins to push up from his seat, but I grasp his am and pull down.

"Mitch," I begin, "I'm having a hard time accepting that Ben is a murderer. Is there solid proof?"

"He was arrested, Mia," he says softly, then sighs.

"So they have enough evidence to convict?"

Mitch nods his head impassively.

At first I feel foolish, but then my temper rises. "Mitch," I snap. "I'd really appreciate it if you didn't dismiss my feelings. I know Ben is a total asshole and being rid of him is the best thing ever, but I did spend several years of my life with him and I want…need to know the details. So please tell me what you know."

"Ok, you're right Mia and I'm sorry," he says as he casts me a remorseful look. "It's my understanding that they found a knife in his car that matched the one used to murder Kevin."

"Oh my God," I gasp and instinctively raise a hand to my mouth. "Stabbed?"

"Yes Mia, he cut his throat." Mitch's eyes drift to the floor and he furrows his brow.

"I'm sorry Mitch, I know this must be hard for you, Kevin being your partner and all, but I need to know." I interlace my arm with his, sharing the armrest between us.

He shrugs. "That's all I really know Mia. I suppose they found fingerprints or other trace evidence."

"Hmmm," I mumble as I stare out the window and watch the ground move as the plane begins to taxi the runway.

I entangle my fingers with Mitch's and squeeze hard as the plane tilts back and shoots for the sky. Holding my breath and closing my eyes, I pray we make a safe ascent. Once we reach the designated altitude, I release my lungs and turn to Mitch. He stares back at me with an amused look.

"Don't like planes?" he asks.

I nod my head, then get back on subject. "Mitch, it just doesn't make sense to me that Ben would leave the weapon around to be found…and" – I shift sideways in my seat, focusing hard on Mitch and prattle on like an excited child – "What about the ring? Why would he leave it behind…isn't that obvious…I mean I don't get it."

"Mia," says Mitch, "Don't try to analyze it, ok. I know Ben's a detective, but maybe not so good at it-"

"But good enough that he was hired by your firm…and good enough that he was helped through law school and brought in as a partner," I interrupt, immediately wishing I could take back my words.

"Mia, the police found sufficient evidence and we really don't know how, or where they found the knife and the ring." He grabs both my hands, pulls me close and says, "Just let the police do their work ok?"

"I'm sorry," I say and shake my head. "You're right. I mean if it wasn't Ben, then who?"

"Exactly," says Mitch with a jubilant edge to his voice. "What's important now is that he is going to be gone now, out of our lives for good. I am no longer under suspicion and am free to spend the rest of my life with you." He grows silent and his eyes begin to tear. "I love you so much."

I swallow hard, cup his face in my hands and say, "Me too."

My legs are just starting to fall asleep when the captain announces our arrival. I grasp Mitch's hand tight as the wheels hit the runway, making a high-pitched squeal. It's ridiculous, but I momentarily panic, thinking the plane is going to catch fire.

Once the plane slows, I look out the window, observing the flat Texas landscape under the darkening sky. The runway lights remind me of the River Walk and I think how nice it would be to take one last stroll along the San Antonio River before leaving for California.

"Mitch," I say, turning to see his eyes have been fixed on me the entire time. My cheeks flush and I feel silly. "I only have a few days before I have to report to Edward's. Can we take a walk along the river before we leave?"

He sweeps back the hair from my face and says, "Of course, Mia. In fact, we should eat at my favorite Mexican restaurant, and then take that stroll…you do like Mexican food?"

"I love Mexican food," I say with a smile.

"It's going to be fun learning everything there is to know about each other," says Mitch.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

As we pull into Mitch's driveway, my heart quickens and my palms grow moist. The headlights illuminate the garage door, which does not open like I expect. Instead Mitch parks, pulls up the brake and pops the trunk. I anxiously eye the dark edges that fall outside the range of the lights, and for one brief moment imagine Ben lurking around the boxwoods that hug the front of the house.

"Are you okay?" asks Mitch, causing me to jump.

"I…I'm fine," I say as I grab the door handle and pull, thinking I am being ridiculous.

Mitch races to the back of the car and grabs my bags. I offer to help, but he refuses to let me, insisting I am his guest in a playful, nerd-like manner that reveals his innocence to me. It makes me think back to the time when he acted silly at the bar, and I cannot help but smile.

A blustery breeze sweeps over me, causing me to shiver and as I stand in the cool chill of the night my eyes drift to the real estate sign staked perfectly straight in the front law, swaying gently in the breeze.

Mitch's eyes follow mine and he says, "I sold it last week."

"That's terrific," I respond, trying to hide the quiver in my voice.

When we approach the house a pang of panic rips through me as I eye the crack in the door, and I hear Ben's fist falling hard on the wood and splintering it. I wonder why Mitch never had it fixed. I had forgotten about it and now it is a painful reminder of the emotional torment I went through when Ben was stalking me and begging me to return to him.

"Everything alright?" asks Mitch, and even though I cannot make out the expression in his eyes, I can feel his concern.

"I'm fine," I say and urge him to enter first since he is carrying the bags.

He unlocks the door and steps inside. I take a moment to look around before crossing the threshold, as if Ben might pounce out and grab me.

It still smells like new construction and looks pretty much the same as I remember it. "Wow," I utter as I take a moment to absorb my surroundings. "It feels so strange to be back here…I mean it seemed just yesterday that I was sitting on that sofa and you were there, hugging me."

Mitch drops my bags to the floor, folds me into his arms and holds me in silence for several minutes. He strokes my hair as if petting a cat and plants delicate kisses on the crown of my head. The stress of all the weeks of officer training bubble to the surface and I finally release all the tears that have been building inside me.

"Mia, Mia, Mia," whispers Mitch.

"I'm sorry, Mitch-"

"Shh," he says and begins to slowly rock me. "It's been a long time for you. I know being here after everything that happened, and has happened since then is difficult."

I release myself from his hold, turn to him with watery eyes and say, "I really wanted to be happy when I got here."

"It's okay, you're tired. Look, why don't you take a hot shower and go to bed."

I search his eyes. "Mitch please don't make me sleep alone-"

"Mia, stop talking nonsense. I already told you I want to share my bed with you…tonight and forever."

I shake my head, feeling stupid for having forgotten. He has forgiven me and we will build a life together, a wonderful perfect life.

Mitch sweeps me from my feet and carries me toward the master bathroom. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I bury my face into his chest and inhale, the scent of his skin and cologne, fanning to life the barely flickering flame of lust that burns inside me.

He sets my feet gently on the floor and begins to undress me, his touch light and stimulating, making me shudder. I reach out to him, wanting to tear off his clothes, but he pushes away my hands.

"Take me Mitch," I whisper as I reach behind his head, pushing my fingers through his stubbly hair.

He plants his lips on mine and kisses me with the passion of a man who has been separated from his one true love for too long.

"Take me," I say again as I reach for his pants.

He grabs my hands, and falls to his knees, brining me down with him. Holding me in his strong arms, my body surges with excitement as he slowly lowers me on top the soft, shaggy bath rug.

He positions himself over me and begins to nibble my neck, gently at first, but then harder until it's a full blown bite. When I cry out in pain, his hand finds its way to my vagina and in a slow, rhythmic motion he plunges one finger inside me, then two and then three. I open my legs and begin to moan. He kisses his way down my neck, to my navel and then my clitoris.

His warm hands grasp my hips with a masculine strength that makes my skin prickle. His tongue plays with my clitoris, starting in a gentle circle, then getting stronger. I arch back and prepare to orgasm, when he returns to a more delicate touch.

"Mitch," I gasp breathlessly, "I love you Mitch."

His hands tighten on my hips and his tongue rotates rapidly, the pressure getter harder with each rotation. Throwing my head back, I gasp and moan out as I orgasm.

When I finish, Mitch lifts up on his arms and looks down at me, his expression serious. My eyes drift from his face to his flexing biceps and I reach out and touch them. They are warm and hard, sending new shivers of excitement through my body.

"Mia," he says, "I love you too Mia."

I look up into his blue eyes. They are so dark and serious. The playful Mitch I know has disappeared, and while the feeling is strange to me, it makes my heart burst with love. We are having a moment, I realize, and in an instant I know he is my soul mate.

My hands find his face and I gently stroke his stubbly cheeks. A smile bursts forth from my soul and I pull him close and begin to kiss him. He lowers himself on top of me, penetrates and makes slow, passionate love to me.

When we finish he lifts me to my feet and guides me to the shower. We enter together and soak under the warm water. Mitch pulls me into his chest and I slip in his hold, which makes me giggle. He tells me I am silly and begins to run his fingers through my hair.

"I want to take care of you Mia," he says as he spins me around and begins to shampoo my hair.

"And I want to be here for you always," I return.

He begins to kiss my neck and then soaps my body. His hands slide up and down my skin soft and slippery, turning me on.

"My turn," I tell him when he finishes and grab the bar of soap from his hand.

I lather my hands and then reach behind his ears and scrub like a mother would a child. He grins large and I move my fingers down his neck and to his chest, little bubbles forming on the patches of hair between his bulging pecs. I fall to my knees and grab hold of his penis. I play with it until it is erect and then wrap my lips around the head. I rotate my tongue around its tip and then slowly push it deeper down my throat. Moving my head back and forward in a slow rhythmic motion, I increase my speed in time with the sound of his breath. He releases a guttural moan, reaches behind my head and penetrates deeper, ejaculating in my mouth. I swallow and rise to my feet, enjoying the smile that plasters his face.

We exit the shower, dry each other off and jump into bed naked.

Mitch collects me in his arms and says, "Mia, I have to work these next couple days. Are you going to be okay alone?"

"Why do you have to work?" I ask feeling disappointed.

He kisses my forehead. "I just need to settle things with the new lawyer taking my place. I'm sorry, I really hadn't planned for this to happen, but with the…well, you'll be okay?"

"I understand," I say, irritated that he side stepped the issue to protect my feelings. "I'm a big girl Mitch; you don't have to treat me like a child. You've fallen behind because of the murder."

"Mia, I'm not trying to treat you like a child. I just don't want to upset you."

"I…I'm sorry," I stammer. "You're right." And with renewed vigor I add, "I want to go through my things tomorrow and go grocery shopping and make you dinner."

"That'd be great," he says with a sparkle in his eye. "Your car is in the garage and keys on the coffee table. I'll be gone before you wake-up"

I look at him with large, wondering eyes and feel my heart skip a beat. "You know tonight is our first night together as a real couple."

"First night of many to come," he says as he reaches past me and flicks off the little lamp on the nightstand and cuddles me in his arms.

I reach out, searching for warmth and open my eyes to see Mitch is gone. Slowly, I drag myself out of bed, throw on my robe and make my way to the kitchen. After drinking a cup of coffee I search Mitch's fridge for eggs and orange juice. I make myself an omelet and smile at the thought of cooking for us both.

After eating, I wash the dishes and then walk around the house, bored and looking for something to do. My phone rings, making me jump and I rush into the living room to find it.

"Hello?" I say.

"Hey beautiful, you're up," says Mitch.

"Hey baby I am," I say with a wistful tone. "I was so sad to find you gone this morning."

"I know, I'm sorry." And after a brief pause he asks, "What're up to?"

"Well, I ate, washed the dishes, tried to find something to straighten, but you keep an immaculate house. So now I think I'll go through my stuff."

"I put all your boxes in the spare room, Mia. I haven't really touched them since the night we moved them in."

"Okay," I say, "I love you Mitch and I cannot wait to see you tonight."

"Me too, and by the way, dinner tomorrow night at the River Walk."

"Oh," I squeal like an excited child. "I can't wait!"

"Okay, see you around six tonight. Love you, bye."

I make a kissing sound and the line falls silent.

I head toward the spare room, but my mind wanders to Mitch's office and I go there instead, only to find it dismantled and packed. The large wooden desk sits in the middle, looking formidable amongst the several small boxes that surround it. I approach with trepidation, trace a finger along its smooth shiny surface as I walk its length, and then plop down into the thick leather chair behind it. I eye the drawers, reach out, grab the handle of the small slender one in the middle, and pull. To my surprise it opens, but it's empty, causing me to pull at the other drawers, and they too all open. Nothing, of course, is inside them.

I get up from the chair and fall to my knees in front of the boxes and start to pull at one when I realize it has been taped shut. They've all been taped shut. I moan out in frustration, so badly wanting to snoop and find out more about Mitch, but then I immediately scold myself. Why can't I just trust him, why am I having doubts? I convince myself that because of my history with men I have become suspicious and unable to believe in myself enough to make right decisions. Mitch is a good guy, he is my soul mate.

But my mind turns to the engagement ring and why Mitch never told me he had it. He had nothing to lose by telling me he found it and kept it to return to Kevin. I convince myself that he just didn't want to hurt me.

A box tumbles over, causing me to jump, bringing back the memory of Ben pounding on the door, demanding I open it. Clasping my robe at my neck I race to the living room and check that the alarm is set. Of course, my fear is unfounded because I know that Ben is in jail. Still, I question how I could have lived with a man so unstable, so horribly disturbed that he would kill not one, not two, but three men. And then I wonder why he never attempted to kill Mitch, the man who won my heart from the first moment I met him. It must be that Mitch knew his personality and took precautions, whereas the others were unaware of Ben. But then I remember Logan trying to loose someone he thought was following us that day we went to the hotel, and it was Ben. Maybe I had simply been fooled into thinking Ben was a good detective, his silver tongue and my innocence at the time we met blinding me from the truth.

I walk toward the other spare room and push open the door. My eyes tear as I look at the three medium sized boxes that hold everything that is mine. I had wanted to return to the apartment and collect more items, but I was in a hurry and left many of my possessions behind.

Wiping away the tears from my eyes with the sleeve of my robe, I decide I am going to go to the apartment and collect all that is mine. I take a quick shower and throw on some clothes and head for the garage and open the door. I anxiously eye the outside as if Ben may be lurking nearby, but almost immediately shake the ridiculous thought from my head. Hopping into my car, I turn the ignition quickly, not allowing myself to change my mind. But my head falls on the steering wheel and I start to cry. My feet don't touch the pedals and I hear Ben's voice, teasing me for being a midget, and then playfully poking me in the ribs.

"Stop it Mia!" I yell and pound my fist on the steering wheel.

I adjust the seat forward and back out of the garage, stopping in the driveway. I pull out my phone and search for Ben and his name comes up in the local news and I learn he is being held in Dominguez State Jail.

"You can't do this Mia!" I yell out like a crazy woman, but I know I will never have peace if I don't confront Ben one last time.

I am frightened at first when I drive onto the grounds of the prison. Large concrete buildings stand stark against the barren landscape, enclosed in large chain link fences, topped with razor wire. This is not a place I should be, and images of leering inmates flash through my head, making me remind myself that is only in the movies.

After several deep breaths, I force myself to get out of my car and walk toward the visitor's area. Several other people are ahead of me, some alone, others with small children. I follow them along the concrete walk and into the cool comfort of the building. Shoes squeak on the highly polished floors, voices echo and light reflects everywhere. It seems more like a mental institute to me, and my heart sinks at the thought of Ben being trapped here, possibly for life. My mind wanders to what happens to ex-detectives in places like this. I shudder at the thought and push it from my mind. My mission here is to find out if Ben truly killed those men.

I am greeted with coolness by the prison staff, and know they are judging me, their eyes scanning me with contempt. With shaky hands I hand over my purse and any loose items on my body. A large man escorts me to the visitor's room, the sound of the clanging handcuffs attached to his waist, making me shiver.

"You have fifteen minutes to talk!" he yells above the boisterous noise of the prison. He pounds his fist on the window divider, catching the attention of the guard behind it, who nods his head with an arrogant jerk and sends in Ben.

A thin, haggard looking man plops down in front of me, no longer the hulk I remember. He stares at me with charcoal eyes, his expression sad, but then his face softens and he smiles, radiating a genuine happiness. He lifts a trembling hand and places his palm on the window.

My heart is pounding like a jackhammer and it takes all my strength to choke back the tears that so desperately try to escape me.

Ben lifts his hand then places it on the window again, his eyes pleading. I know he wants me to return the gesture, but I cannot. Uncrossing my arms, I reach out and lift the phone off the receiver, my eyes never once releasing his burning stare.

Ben fumbles with the phone and puts it to his ear. "Mia," he says with a quiver in his voice. "My God I'm so glad you came to see me. Mia, I love you so much Mia. Please you have to help me."

My throat constricts, making it difficult for me to speak, and all I can push out is, "Why?"

"Because I didn't do these things-"

I nod my head and repeat, "Why?"

"I don't understand," he returns, looking thoroughly confused.

"Why'd you have to kill them Ben?" I say, my voice cracking.

"Mia, I didn't kill anyone, Mitch set me up."

I look upon him with incredulous eyes, disappointed in not receiving a confession, but not surprised.

"Mitch has a solid alibi," I say "He was visiting his father in prison."

"Yeah," says Ben and the ends of his mouth turn up into a grin. "You mean the father who covered for his only son's murder?"

"Why would you say that?" I ask, feeling my temperature rise.

"Mia, that day I went to the park…you ever wonder what it was I wanted to give you?"

I want to say no, but my mouth works before my brain and I blurt, "Of course."

"It was evidence Mia….evidence…the court files…documents…it showed that Mitch committed the crime." He pauses when I shake my head in disbelief. "Mia, he even changed his name…Ask him what his real name is."

"No," I say, "I don't believe you. If he had committed the crime he would be in prison."

"But his father confessed and the evidence was sketchy, they just wanted to convict someone…Mia, you don't understand the system. Look, just go to the apartment, I have copies there. Go and see for yourself. At least you can do that for me." He looks at me with desperate eyes, but his guilt trip ending, 'at least you can do that for me' strikes me like barbed whip.

I nod my head in agreement, not wanting to let my building anger grab hold of me and divert me from my mission.

"Mia, even if you no longer want me, love me…you must listen to me. Mitch is not who you think he is…I only wanted to protect you Mia." He raises a hand to his brow and begins to sob.

My heart sinks and for a brief moment I feel the urge to reach out and hug him.

"But the knife Ben, they found the knife in your car," I practically whisper.

"There were no prints on that knife, Mia," he returns. "Did he tell you that?"

I stare at him with wide eyes, my expression clearing revealing the answer to his question.

"Mia, for Christ's sake…he used that knife to stab me!"

"Oh he did not!" I yell, feeling my face flush. "Just stop it Ben. I told you I no longer loved you. Why couldn't you accept it and just move on! Not…not moving on just proves what a sociopath you really are. Stop blaming Mitch." I pause to catch my breath, but before I can continue Ben speaks.

"Mia I love you and always will, but I did not kill those people," he says, then plunges on. "Look Mia, I know nothing about those military guys. I did follow you that day to the hotel to get pictures. I only wanted to have something on you to show Mitch to make him go away." His expression changes to one of regret as I feel my own sour at his admission. "Why would I go to that trouble if killing was what was on my mind?" He takes a pause, exhales heavily and continues, "Mia, I had an agreement with Kevin about the ring and he wanted it since I wasn't able to pay for it, but I told him I'd already given it to you to keep. Unless you set me up, which I'd never believe you'd do, you must've given the ring to Mitch….why Mia?" I gulp hard, diverting my eyes from him, knowing he is right, Mitch did have the ring. "The ring was never on me. Mitch killed Kevin and set me up. He must've heard me arguing with him at the office. They found the ring on his body. Damn, Mia, I'd never be that stupid. Why…why would I be so stupid as to leave the ring…the murder weapon in my car?" He drops the receiver and shakes his head, then returns it to his ear, with an angry jerk.

"But why?" I ask feeling truly baffled. "Why would he set you up?"

"So he could get away with killing off your lover and put me away for good." He pushes his fingers through his wavy brown hair and chuckles bitterly. "He was…how does the saying go…killing two birds with one stone?"

He places his hand again on the window and tilts his head, sending a tear tricking down his cheek. "Hell Mia, why didn't I just kill him?"

His words sting like a million tiny needles and make my muscles tighten. I cannot move my lips to speak, and much to my relief the guard enters and tells me time is up. I stare at Ben, startled, like a deer in headlights, and before I hang-up he says, "They'll never convict me, and if they do I'll appeal Mia. I'll forgive you when you realize what a monster he is and return to me."

I gently return the receiver to its hook and slowly rise to my feet, my gaze never wavering from his burning stare. My heart breaks to see him looking so frail, sad, and broken. I want so badly to believe him, but accepting Mitch as a murderer is far more than I can bear.

I leave Ben feeling tired, dazed and confused. Relying on the guards to shuffle me around, I exit the prison, not once checking if I have been returned all my belongings. I sit in my car and stare out the window at the razor wire that adorns the chain linked fence. If Ben is truly innocent, then who committed those crimes? My mind turns to Lewis. He is cocky, willing to do anything, but still I know in my heart it couldn't have been him.

Prison is a scary place to be, especially for an innocent man. After several minutes, I convince myself of Ben's guilt, and then scold myself for following with thoughts of who really cares, he is out of my life for good and that's all that matters. It's selfish - wrong, I know, but he will always be a presence in my life if he is not in prison. Images of his eyes float before me and his words echo in my head, 'I will forgive you when you return to me.' He still sees me as his property, and the thought of being trapped with him again sends cold chills up and down my spine. Ben has been exceptionally cruel to me and deserves what he is getting.

I take a deep breath, turn the engine and head to the grocery store. When I park the car, my eyes drift to the dashboard clock. It's late and I am running out of time. Not wanting Mitch to know that I visited Ben, I rush through the store, picking up a steak, some potatoes and a package of steam in bag vegetables.

Practically sprinting down the emptiest aisle toward checkout, my cart rattling like a washer off its spin cycle, I eye a shelf of condoms, making me stop dead in my tracks. A sigh of regret escapes me as I look at the different types of prophylactics available; many claiming to be so thin that feeling is not compromised. A laugh escapes me, knowing no man would agree with that, but my humor is short lived because I never took the necessary precautions I should have when making love to those men.

It suddenly occurs to me that my sickness could be because I am pregnant. How could I have been so stupid? I missed my period, it's already three weeks, maybe even a month past due. The stress over the murders and the ordeal I went through with Lewis made me completely oblivious to my cycle. A cold chill passes through me as I frantically scan the shelves for pregnancy tests, and when I find them, I grab the most expensive one, hoping for a more accurate read.

I leave the store, throw my bags in the trunk of my car and head toward Ben's apartment. When I exit the highway and travel the smaller back roads, memories of Ben driving like a maniac and causing me to vomit flash through my head. How dare he treat me like that? Why do I even care about solving this crime? Mitch is right; I should leave it to the police, but I turn into the large cluster of overgrown buildings, unable to overcome my burning curiosity.

I park in front of our building and solemnly look at the fading grey siding, indicative of management's neglect of the property. I imagine how horrible it would be if I were still with Ben and pregnant, living in a rundown apartment complex. I replace the thought with Mitch and me living in a real house, a place to call home.

Shutting the engine, I grab the door handle and pull, but cannot make my feet swing to the pavement. It's nearing five and I fear Mitch will be home, waiting for the meal I promised, and I will have to tell him where I have been. But I dash that thought from my head because Mitch is not like that. He doesn't try to control me like Ben and I fear that if I don't savor and exert my independence that he may change, and I promised myself that I would never let a man have that type of hold on me again.

I step out of the car, brush back the hair from my face and swing my purse over my shoulder. My heart begins to pound faster as I walk along the concrete path. The same bushes hug the way, their scent just as I remembered, making negative emotions rise in me that I somehow manage to squelch. And still, l fear that Ben may pounce out and grab me.

As I wind around the back of the building and climb the stairs, I look up and notice the door has been replaced and is cordoned off with crime scene tape. I stand on the landing and fumble through my purse for the key. I carefully eye my surroundings, convinced no one is around, move to push aside the tape and insert the key, but stop, wondering how much trouble I could get into for doing this.

I anxiously fiddle with the key while I play with my conscious. I want to see the evidence Ben has, I know the police have most likely got their murderer, but Ben has placed a seed of doubt in me. At the same time I think it is not worth it, to ruin my military career over an asshole that did nothing but abuse me. Then, it suddenly comes to me, and I realize I need to know because somewhere, deep inside me, hidden beneath my logical soul, I have doubts. Yes, I have doubts about Mitch and I still wonder if he is the killer.

Taking a deep breath, I lift the key with a shaky hand and insert it into the lock. It doesn't go quite all the way in, so I push harder and turn, but nothing. The lock has been changed. Of course, how could I be so stupid?

Feeling defeated, and now worried about being seen, I race back to my car, hop inside and lock the door. Surely Ben would have known they would change the lock when they replaced the door. Feeling manipulated once again, I race back to Mitch's house.

The day is starting to melt into night and I quickly eye the dashboard clock, realizing Mitch will be home soon. I pop the trunk, hop out of the car and grab the bags of groceries. My mind is a frantic mess as I fumble with my keys, dropping them several times before I steady my nerves, slow down and manage to find the right one to open the door. No sooner do I enter the house than flashes of light shine past me, illuminating the inside. I turn to see Mitch parking in the drive. I am so shaky and nervous that I am unsure what to do. Do I rush in, close the door and act like I didn't notice? Do I force myself to appear calm and wait for Mitch? He has seen me, of that I am certain, so I opt to wait.

Hearing his car door shut, and his rushed footsteps toward me, I turn to face him. "Hey Mitch," I say, hoping he doesn't hear the quiver in my voice.

"Mia, let me help you," he says, grabbing the bags from my hands.

"Sorry," I say, releasing a nervous giggle, "I got a late start."

"It's okay babe, everything alright?"

"Yeah," I respond, staring at him, knowing my odd behavior is obvious. "Oh," I gasp, realizing I am blocking the way. I step inside and close the door after Mitch enters.

"I'm gonna put these bags in the kitchen," he calls back to me as I make my way to the bathroom.

I flick on the bathroom light, the low buzz of the fan calming my nerves. Taking a moment to steady my breathing I turn to my reflection in the mirror, seeing myself, but not knowing who I have become. My face looks thin and my eyes tired. Sickness rises and I rush to the toilet, crumbling to my knees and vomiting. I finish, slowly stand and turn to the sink to washout my mouth.

"Oh No," I gasp, realizing I have forgotten to take out my pregnancy test.

I instinctively chew a fingernail as tendrils of panic twist around me. What if Mitch has emptied the bags? I rush out of the bathroom and head toward the kitchen, only to find Mitch leaning against the bar, the test in his hand. My heart drops.

He looks up at me, his eyes filled with delight. I try to return the feeling, but the thought of being pregnant sends pangs of fear through me. I am too young, not prepared, not even sure who the father may be.

"Come here," he says and holds out his hand.

I saunter toward him, placing my hand in his. "I'm late," is all I can say.

He folds me into his arms, buries his nose into my head and inhales deeply. "We're going to have a baby?" he asks softly.

I look up into his sparkling eyes and my heart fills with dread. I have to be honest with him, but first I will take the test.

"I don't know," I return as I gingerly remove the test from his hand. "I'm going to find out."

I try not to run as I head back to the bathroom, Mitch on my heels. I turn as I close the door and say, "We'll know shortly."

A smile creeps across his face. "Bring the test out when you're done so we can see it together."

I claw at the package, remove the stick and urinate on it. I wanted to do this alone, not planning on telling Mitch unless it came back positive, but now I have no choice but to go out there and face him.

Slowly, I crack the door and Mitch reaches out, pulling me into his arms. He guides me to the sofa and sits me down, cuddling close to me. Together we stare at the test, like two anxious people waiting for some good news, him that I am pregnant and me that I am not. After what feels like hours, the marker on the stick changes to a pink plus sign.

My heart sinks and I start to feel dizzy as a surge of worry and panic overcomes me. Mitch puts a comforting arm around me and kisses the top of my head. I am relieved he does not see my face, certain it is a mask of horror.

"Mia, this is wonderful Mia, I love you so much," his voice cracks. "We're going to have a baby."

Forcing a smile I lift my face and look into his eyes. "Yes, I love you too Mitch."

Now is the time to tell him, but I cannot bring myself to do it. It will ruin the moment and besides, would he ever really know? My mind races and I remind myself that I had promised Mitch no more lies. I cast my eyes down and bury my face into his chest, holding back the sob that rises in my throat.

"Mitch," I whisper, "There is something I've got to tell you."

He cups my face in his hands and lifts my face. "What is it Mia?"

His eyes bore into me and I cannot bring myself to tell him. "I…I needed some closure so I went to Dominquez and visited Ben."

Mitch releases me from his hold with a vicious jerk, springing to his feet. "How could you Mia?"

"I don't understand," I shoot back, the timbre of my voice rising. "I can go anywhere I want to, and I wanted to see Ben…one last time for closure."

"So he'll always be in our bed Mia? You still love him, just like you still love that other asshole." His eyes flash with an anger that surprises me.

I hold back the fury I feel for him referring to Logan as an asshole. "I love only you Mitch and it bothers me that you are constantly testing my love for you. Ben was an unfortunate mistake. I met him when I was young and in a desperate situation. Logan was purely physical. My heart belongs to you and only you. And…quite honestly it irks me that you judge how I react to situations. If I want to see Ben one last time for the closure I need then" – I spring to my feet, fists clinched, and plunge on, "then damn it that's exactly what I'm going to do!"

Mitch relaxes and approaches me, but I step back.

"Mia, okay, I'm sorry. I only wish you would've told me first, that's all."

"I…I just find so many clues in the murders don't make sense." I sigh and push my fingers through my hair.

"Mia, you don't have all the clues. Leave it to the police. It's their job." He reaches for me again, but I walk away and start to pace like a caged animal.

"Why would he stab himself?"

"He's delusional Mia. He wanted to win you back. It was a desperate measure." His voice is pleading.

"And the knife in the car…really? Who'd be that stupid?" I slip past Mitch and round the sofa, completing the circle.

"Mia, I'm sure he'll be psychologically evaluated. If I can get my hands on the results and give them to you, will that help?"

"I suppose," I return, thinking that would be an excellent way to settle my mind about the whole matter.

"Still he had some interesting things to say about you." I turn my eyes on him, but he remains expressionless. "He said you really killed that man in Alabama and your father covered for you. And that you changed your name and -"

"Damn it Mia, how can you believe that nut job over me? I took on my mother's maiden name, she was the only one there for me…and as for the murder…If you want I can pull all the court records and you can see for yourself. What is this Mia, you want to convince yourself that you weren't living with a ticking bomb all those years, or do you want to believe I committed those crimes," he rages.

I fall silent; realizing everything he says is true. Mitch shakes his head in disbelief and the muscle in his jaw begins to pulse. I know I have upset him and immediately feel guilty for doubting him once again.

"Well…what about the ring…I know you had the ring," I gulp hard and continue, "I found it in your desk."

Mitch smirks and says, "Going through my things Mia? That's okay, I did find the ring and I returned it to Kevin because I knew about the agreement-"

"And you kept that from me…a secret," I shoot back, and just when he looks like he is going to speak I push on, "Why was it on him, huh? Why would Kevin be carrying the ring around?"

"I don't know Mia, I suppose they made some type of arrangement I didn't know about. I didn't want to upset you." He pauses, reaches a curled index finger to his lip and continues. "Speaking of secrets, why were there torn panties and a nightshirt under your mattress?"

I feel my face drop as the memory of Ben's rape floods back to me as if it had just happened. How could I have doubted Ben's ability to inflict pain, maybe even murder on another? In my heart I am certain that if he were not in jail he would kill me next.

"Ben…he," I falter, raise a hand to cover my face, and continue through sobs. "He broke in and raped me."

My legs grow limp and somehow I find my way to the sofa just as I collapse.

"Yet you still have doubts about him. I figured that's what happened, that's why I got the alarm, but I was too late. I only wish you'd told me. We could have put him away right then and there and no one would be dead" he sighs, not rushing to comfort me like I hoped. "I get it Mia you don't know if you really love me. I don't know if it's because you're still hung up on that military guy or if I'm just not touching something in you. I…I don't know…Maybe you're afraid of commitment? Maybe you want something better."

He walks over to the sofa and plops down next to me with a sigh. Slouching forward, he rests his elbows on his knees.

It is my fault that Logan is dead and I realize that may be why I still hold on to his memory. I did what I thought was best at the time and I cannot allow the guilt to consume me, take over me, ruin my life. Reaching over, I grab Mitch's hand and look into his eyes. "I'm sorry Mitch…I'm so sorry. I guess it's just you're the nicest man I've ever met and I'm just looking for the mean you…the real you, but it's not you."

Mitch rests back, still holding my hand, and draws me into his chest. I press my ear hard against him and listen to the soothing sound of his heart.

"I know Mia and we need to get past this. Promise me you'll get some counseling, if not for us than for you."

I feel a sting from the comment, but accept that I need help. I need to get past my feelings of uncertainty and be able to love a man who truly loves me.

"I will Mitch, as soon as we move out to California," I say with conviction.

He strokes my hair, reaches over my shoulder and pulls me even closer. "That's all I can ask Mia."

Mitch's stomach rumbles and I lift-up. "My God I forgot about dinner."

Mitch laughs and pretends to make an effort to push me up from the sofa. "My Mia you've already gained about thirty pounds."

"Real funny," I return coyly.

He springs up and looks into my eyes with a deep penetrating stare.

"I've put you through so much," I say. "I'm really sorry Mitch. Sometimes I think you're too good for me."

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. You need time to heal and we will get past this," he says as he guides me into the kitchen. "Now let's make dinner, I'm starving."

Mitch takes over the cooking, leaving me to steam the bag of vegetables in the microwave. I set the table and he carries in the plates. I take a seat and look at my steak, cooked to perfection, but my appetite has vanished.

"Mitch, I can't believe we're leaving Texas for good," I say dreamily.

"The movers will be here at ten. And the cars will be taken at noon."

"No cars? What about our stroll on the River walk," I say, leaning in slightly, both my voice and expression taking on an odd anxiety.

"I'm picking up a rental tomorrow. And Cindy is giving me a ride to the office."

My face goes ashen. "Who's Cindy?"

"Whoa, relax Mia; she's a paralegal from the office."

I release a sigh and immediately feel ashamed of my reaction. After all I have cheated on Mitch, and am not certain that I am carrying his child. All I can do is watch him cheerfully eat his steak as if everything is perfect, while worry gnaws at my gut.

"Aren't you hungry?" he asks.

"It looks and smells delicious," I admit, "but I'm not feeling very well."

"Why don't you go ahead and turn in. I'll clean-up," he says as he reaches across the table and encloses my hand in his warm grasp.

"I think I will."

I rise from the table and he calls after me to let him know if I need anything.

I lie in bed, unable to sleep, wondering who could be the father of the baby that grows inside me. Thinking hard back to my last period, I am almost certain Logan is the father, but I also had sex with Mitch the weekend he visited me. My chest tightens as tears pool in my lower lids. Mitch is so good to me, so kind, and all I do is hurt him. I must be intentionally driving him way, as if my subconscious knows I am not good enough for him.


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

"Remember they'll be here at ten," says Mitch, grabbing his blazer and briefcase as he heads for the door.

"When will you be home?" I ask, already feeling lonely, as I follow closely behind.

Just as he reaches for the door, he turns to me and delivers a peck on my cheek.

"Early Mia, I've made reservations at La Fogata." His gaze lingers on me longer than usual.

"Okay, so are the movers taking everything?" I ask as I take a long look at the furniture around us.

"Unless you want to bring it on the plane with us," he says with a grin.

"Okay smart ass," I return.

I rush to him and deliver one last embrace before he leaves, gently closing the door behind him. As I stand in the family room, listening to the car's engine start and the wheels pull away, pangs of loneliness start to consume me.

My hand falls to my belly, and I unconsciously begin to rub. _Are you a boy? A girl? _And then I start thinking of baby names; Tyler, Michael, Logan, Porter. My emotions start to swirl so fast, making me dizzy. I find my way to the sofa and fall back on the springy cushions.

Curling my legs into my body, and resting my head against the sofa's arm, I start to sob. Images of Logan's face float before me and my heart begins to ache. I don't want this child, but what if it's Logan's? It will be my only connection to him. I do still love him, I knew the moment he told me that he loved me, and I could not even return it to him. _Did he read my last text message…that I loved him? _I would feel better if he knew before he died…was murdered. Oh God who could have done such a thing….beautiful Logan with his stoic front, and soft heart? He was just beginning to open up and then was taken away from me.

After some time my sobs begin to slow and I feel happy that I am pregnant. I do love Mitch, he is my soul mate. He will be a great partner and father. Knowing I have the love and support of a man I deeply care for, and having the child of a man I still love is something I can accept and live with.

My mind drifts from Logan to Jake and I wonder if it's a sign. Perhaps Logan is reaching out to me through another man that resembles him so much he could easily pass as his brother. I shake the thought from my head as absurd, and not a healthy way of coping with his loss.

Then, as if being guided by an invisible hand, I reach for my phone, tabbing through my contacts, falling on Jake. With some hesitation I click the envelope and type a message.

'Hoz life as a trainer?' A coquettish smile creeps across my face and I close my eyes feeling the cold desk under my trembling body as Jake penetrates me with an eager thrust, almost making me cum on the spot.

Several minutes pass as I anxiously await his reply, but nothing. Then I question my motives. What can I expect to accomplish by carrying on a relationship with a man I will most likely never see again? It occurs to me that I am not only cheating on Mitch, but I am also using Jake to fulfill my need for Logan. It's unfair and I know that I will only hurt myself, and everyone else involved, in the end.

I cast my phone aside and go the bedroom to find something decent to wear for dinner tonight. As I root through my suitcase, dismissing everything I find, I remember the dress I wore the night I first met Mitch. I left it in his closet, wanting to preserve it and the memory of our night together. The corners of my mouth twist into a wide grin as I recall him escorting me to the bathroom. My arm was tight around his waist, and the smell of his skin and cologne made my body tingle. And then my smile starts to fade as my thoughts drift to him confronting me about my relationship with Ben.

A hard knock on the door startles me, sending my heart racing. I quickly pull on some clothes and run to the front door. I peer nervously out the peep hole and see a man in a uniform, wearing a cap.

Cracking the door, I look past the man and see a marked mover's truck. Only after that do I fully open the door and invite him in.

"Howdy M 'am," he says as he brushes past me and surveys the room. "My partner's right behind me."

The rattling of dolly wheels on pavement confirms his statement. The other man tips his hat as he enters.

"Anything you don't want us to take?"

"Uh just leave the suitcases," I say.

They head for the sofa first and I watch with a heavy heart as they wheel it off. So many emotions roiled inside me while sitting on its comforting cushions. I gulp hard as I look at the tramped down spots on the carpet where the leg's once were.

The workers continue removing furniture, and not wanting to get in their way I retreat to the master bedroom and pull out my computer, not even sure why. The desire to probe more deeply into Mitch's life no longer motivates me. I am pregnant, alone and Mitch loves me. He has forgiven me for my indiscretions, but will he be so sympathetic if he discovers he is not the father of my child?

The men finish quickly and just as I close and lock the door behind them I hear a bleep. Reaching into my pocket like a child grabbing for candy, I whip out my phone. A smile breaks across my face, Jake has responded.

'Mia it's great. Doing much better not having a hard ass like u over me.'

'I thought u liked my hard ass,' I respond with a giggle.

'I do and want to pound it again.'

The memory of him thrusting and pivoting his pelvis in a sensual, breathtaking way flashes through my mind.

'Me too.' - And after a moment's hesitation - 'but when?'

'Where r u stationed?'

'Edwards'

'Will see if I can transfer there. I'm going to Buckley.'

'Maybe u can visit,' I respond without thinking.

'Can I call u?' he asks.

I guiltily look around me as if Mitch might materialize before me, with that hurt look in his eyes that tears at my heart, but before I can respond my phone rings.

"Hello?"

"Hey Mia, it's so nice to hear from you," he says with a deep, sexy voice.

"Yeah, are you excited to be a trainer now?" I ask, starting our conversation with pointless words as I try to figure out why I even bothered contacting him.

"Mia, I miss you and really wish'd we spent more time together."

"Me too," I squeeze out as I imagine him once again making love to me.

"I'm glad you decided to stay in touch, and as soon as I get out of training I'm going to see you…make love to you."

"I'd like that I say, but it seems so long to wait. Will you still feel that way?" My heart pangs with an inexplicable insecurity.

"I will, Mia. Ever since our encounter I cannot stop thinking about you…but I know you're involved with someone right now…is it serious?"

"I'm afraid it is," I say, gulping hard.

"But you're not sure, huh?"

"I'm not," I readily admit as I begin to bite my bottom lip.

"So why's it serious if you don't love the guy?"

"But I do love him," I blurt out, "I…I…it's complicated okay. I don't want to discuss it with you. I don't even know you…What we had was a good time-"

"Whoa – I get it. Calm down, I'd love to be the other man, doesn't bother me one bit."

I am oddly comforted by his admission; although part of me wants him to be madly in love with me and demanding I give myself to him and no one else.

"Okay, good. Then we make plans after training?"

"Yes baby and I can't wait to feel you again."

A smile spreads across my face. "Great."

"Look I've got to go, but stay in touch okay?"

"I will," I say and end the call.

I lean against the wall and slide down to the floor, knees bent. The phone dangles in my hand and I stare across the empty room, trying to make sense of what just happened. Why am I sabotaging my relationship with Mitch? He loves me and has been a perfect gentleman, and he did not kill those men. Maybe I need more excitement. He tries too hard to please me. There is no challenge, I am the only woman for him, he is predictable - and madly in love with me. And then it occurs to me that deep down inside I do not feel I deserve Mitch. He is too good for me.

I release an exasperated sigh as I run my fingers through my hair. Just because I have been treated like trash most of my life does not mean I do not deserve better. It is difficult for me to accept; after all I have done to hurt Mitch, that I am a good person. I decide to focus on our relationship and will start by never contacting Jake again.

The day wears on and the men eventually come for the cars and take them away. Again I find myself alone, stranded in the house. I am no longer comfortable, the rooms feeling so large now they are empty. I open my laptop and login in to Pandora and begin to stream some music, but it does little to console me, the echoing base only making me more anxious.

Finally I call Mitch.

"Mitch," I say, "I cannot stand being alone with nothing to do. Please come home."

"I'm already on my way Mia, why don't you get ready for dinner," he returns with a liveliness to his voice that makes my heart sing.

"Okay, I love you," I say and hang up after he returns my words.

Determined to move on with my life, forgetting Logan and Jake, I pull on my sexy dress, and as I stare at my figure in the mirror I imagine myself with a big belly. The thought of having a beautiful, healthy baby with Mitch, regardless of who the father is, begins to sink in. I close my eyes and try to feel the fetus moving, knowing very well it is too soon.

I go into the living room and lie down on the plush carpet where the sofa once was, staring at the ceiling fan above. My fingers push into my lower abdomen and it feels hard, as if the shell of a seed is forming. It seems strange as I thought my uterus would soften, and be mushy to the touch.

The jingle of keys breaks my meditation. I hear the dead lock clank and the door fling open, but I remain still.

Mitch rushes toward me, gathering me into his arms.

"Mia, are you alright?" he asks.

I open my eyes and smile, instantly relaxing his concerned expression.

"Why are you lying on the floor?" he asks.

"Well there's no furniture," I return.

"I'm sorry Mia, in your state you shouldn't have to sit on the floor. Maybe we can get an air mattress-"

"Mitch, it's okay. I'm only a month or so pregnant. I'll be fine, but I'm eating for two now and I'm starving."

Mitch rises to his feet, grabs my hands, and pulls me up.

"Let's get going." He sweeps the hair from my face. "I love you so much Mia."

His eyes glisten with love and my heart skips a beat. "Me too," I say.

His hand falls on my belly and he begins to rub with a gentle, comforting touch. It's more than I can bear, and despite how hard I try, I cannot stop the heavy tears in my eyes from trickling down my checks.

"What is it Mia?" He clasps my hand in his and stares deep into my eyes, penetrating my soul. I tilt my head down, unable to meet his gaze.

"Mitch I'm so tired of crying all the time and it's because I love you so much and you me and…and I don't want to have any secrets." I force myself to look up at him.

His lips tighten into a thin line and his ocean blue eyes turn stormy. "What is it Mia?"

"I…I'm not sure who the father is."

He releases my hands with a jerk, angering and confusing me at the same time.

"I'm sorry Mitch…I thought you'd at least wonder."

"Wonder Mia? Wonder? Wow!" he releases a long sigh, pushes his fingers through his hair and turns angry eyes on me. "So its Logan's right? You couldn't use protection Mia, at least you could've done that for me…for us."

"I'm sorry, I was wildly attracted to him and I lost control…I told you Logan was only physical-"

"Just shut-up," he snaps with enough force to make me jump. Rushing to me he raises a hand as if to strike, but retracts it, sweeping it over his head.

"My God were you going to hit me?" I say with a quiver in my voice.

Mitch's stare lingers on me for several long seconds, then he turns and begins to pace.

My breathing becomes shallow and I storm off to the master bedroom, slamming the door behind me. Moments later the door busts open, banging the wall behind. Mitch races to me, grabs my arm and pulls me close, making me flinch.

"Mia," he whispers through gritted teeth. "I'd never hurt you. I'm just upset…I love you so much and I only wish you loved me."

"I do love you," I say, drawing away slightly, my eyes pleading for his understanding. "I'm sorry…I just didn't want to lie to you."

He wraps an arm around my shoulder and presses me hard against his chest. "I don't care, Mia," he finally says. "I love you and this baby is mine no matter what."

"I'm truly sorry Mitch," I say, lifting a hand to his chest, rubbing like he did my belly only moments earlier.

"Look, it's getting late. Let's eat and enjoy one last stroll on the River Walk." His hand gently caresses my hair.

A surge of relief runs through me. I squeeze him tight, and lift my face to meet his lips.

Our drive to the restaurant is quiet, the tension thick and uncomfortable. But when we are seated the mood changes and Mitch begins to smile, as if he has already gladly accepted the situation.

The waiter brings us a basket of tortillas chips and a volcano bowl filled with guacamole.

"Mitch, can you ever forgive me?" I ask as I dip a chip in the dip, and slowly turn it.

"I do forgive you Mia. Logan's not here anymore and even if you loved him, I love you and the child needs a father."

I swallow hard, wondering if this is simply the beginning of a loveless relationship.

"I need more than that Mitch," I say. "I want you to want to be with me, not just settle."

"But I do Mia…Look I'm sorry…this wasn't what I had planned for us. I'm hurt, disappointed, but hopeful you will settle down now with this child and be faithful to me."

"I will," I return quickly, pushing aside the guilt from my earlier conversation with Jake. "You're so good to me and I love you."

We finish our chips and order a platter of fajitas to share. The smell of the beef, sizzling on the hot plate set before me makes my stomach grumble. It is the perfect mix of seared beef with garlic and onion. I reach for the soft tortillas, but Mitch pulls them away and prepares one for me.

"Thanks," I say as I take the plate from his hand, open the tortilla and fill it with more sour cream and guacamole.

"You like guacamole," says Mitch. "I'll have to remember that."

I nod my head, smile and take a bite. "You know I could've prepared it myself," I say between chews, mortified by my own lack of manners.

"I know Mia, I just want to take care of you."

My stomach churns and I fear its morning sickness, but come to the realization that Mitch's desire to care for me, manage me, eats worry into my very being. How will he behave when the baby is born? Will he take over, criticize my ways? Will he pamper me to the point of irritation? I start to feel my independence slip away and wonder if I have left one bad relationship for another.

We finish our meal and leave, taking our much anticipated stroll along the River Walk. Mitch's face glows under the light of the moon, brining me back to the night we first met. A tingly sensation rips through my body and I remember now why I love him so much. He makes me happy, his easy manner and boyish smile like a sedative. He offers me the security I desperately need.

I gaze at him as he watches a boat loaded with tourists glide across the river. Then, as if sensing my eyes upon him, he turns to me and his grin grows even wider.

I grab his hand and squeeze hard and he returns the gesture.

We walk in silence for several minutes until the path ends in a set of stairs, running up alongside a stone wall. Mitch stops, grabs my shoulders, turning me to face him, and presses his lips against mine. As his silky tongue darts in and out of my mouth, my hand finds its way to his penis and I begin to rub through his pants. His erection grows and I secretly look out of the side of my eye for a hidden place where we can make wild, spontaneous love. But he grabs my hand, pulling it away. Reaching under my arms, he lifts me, setting me on top the stone wall. He spreads my legs, my dress inching dangerously up my thighs.

"Mia," he says, rubbing my outer thighs, sending my body into a fit of pleasure. "I love you."

"Me too," I return, then plant my lips on his.

He fumbles in his pocket and pulls out a box.

With shaky hands, he opens the lid, revealing a large diamond ring. I clasp my hands together and gasp.

"Mia, will you marry me?"

I am at a loss for words and nod my head vigorously, then finally find my voice. "Yes, I will…I love you Mitch."

I hold out a trembling hand as he slips the ring over my finger. My heart surges with joy and all doubts I had about Mitch vanish. I have never before seen him so nervous, so shaky, making me realize that his love for me is deep and true.

"You're my soul mate Mitch," I practically whisper. "I loved you the moment I saw you."

The smile leaves his face and his expression turns severe. His eyes reflect the light from the street lamps, giving them a mysterious glint. And at the same time a feel of dominance radiates from him, turning me on.

He pulls me roughly into his chest. His lips meet my neck and he begins to lick me, and then nibble. I throw my head back and beg him to make love to me.

"Not here, Mia. People are coming." He breathes in my ear, his warm breath sending chills up and down my spine.

He steps back, my body shrinking in unfulfilled desire as the heat of his body, the pressure from his touch, vanishes. I feel cold and empty. He pushes my legs together and pulls down my dress. Passersby smile uncomfortably as the race past us.

"Let's go home," he says. "I want to hurt you before you get too far along."

I am strangely aroused by his statement, reminiscent of Lewis. I think, hope that he will turn into the wild, passionate lover Logan was – all the men were. If he can pick up something from each man, I would be in shear heaven.

I smile large as we walk to the car. When we are finally alone, I lose control, lean over, unzip Mitch's pants and begin to lick his penis. He pushes out his pelvis and leans his head back. Small, guttural moans escape him as I wrap my tongue around the shaft and move my head up and down. When I feel his abdomen move in and out with each heated breath, I plunge his penis deep down my throat and continue to move my head, quickening as his moans grow louder, until he ejaculates.

When he finishes I lift up, lean in close to him and start to lick his ear. A large grin plasters his face and he reaches across my lap, grabbing my outer thigh with masculine force.

"I can't wait to get home," he says, his voice deep and determined.

I feel the moisture grow in my panties, and wanting to preserve the moment, I continue to lick his ear, eventually sucking his earlobe into my mouth, teasing it with the tip of my tongue. My hand falls to his lower abdomen and I begin to caress.

When we pull into the drive, Mitch parks and jerks up the brake, making it whine in protest. He bounces out of the car and darts over to my side, flinging the door open, grabbing me by my arms and lifting me over his shoulder.

I giggle like a school girl as he races toward the door. He fumbles with the keys, finding the right one and throws open the door. He spins around to turn the deadbolt, making me feel dizzy. I push against his broad back, trying to lower myself to solid ground, but he resists. I give in and slump back over his shoulder.

He enters the master bedroom and gently lowers me to my feet. I stand in awe as he races around me, like a child who has had too much sugar. He throws a quilt on the floor and spreads out the corners. When finished, he places his hands on his hips, taking a moment to review his handy work. Then he turns to me, a boyish smile spread across his face.

I giggle out loud and slip the straps of my dress over my shoulders. He races toward me, pulls me hard into his chest, tips my chin up and looks directly into my eyes.

"I'll be right back," he says, releasing me, making a quick exit out of the bedroom.

I am dumbfounded, but do not let it stop me from completely removing my clothes and lying back on the soft quilt. He finally returns, his arms full with candles and a box of matches.

"Stay there," he says as he meticulously places the candles around the edge of the comforter. He lights a single match, the smell of the sulfur burning my nostrils. With shaky hands he works his way around, lighting every candle. I lift up on my elbows and watch with childish amusement, but the smile leaves my lips as he tears off his clothes. The warm glow of the flames illuminates his face and rock hard body. He is a gorgeous man, perfect, every woman's dream.

I rest back, lifting my arms over my head, and spread my legs.

"I want you Mitch," I whisper.

He carefully steps over the flaming perimeter and straddles me. Grabbing my wrists he yanks my arms hard over my head, making me cry out. His head falls to my neck and he starts to gently kiss me, his lips warm and plump. He makes his way down, shifting his body back as he continues to my breasts. His tongue plays with my nipple, his soft strokes turning into small bites that get harder. I start to writhe under the pain and he stops, releasing my wrists. I wiggle the blood back into my fingers. He reaches over and grabs a candle, holding it under his chin. His eye sparkle blue and the mysterious glint that turned me on earlier returns, making my body tingle in anticipation. He lowers the candle just above my abdomen and pours the hot wax. I gasp when it strikes, sending a searing pain that seems to go right through me.

Mitch blows out the candle and tosses it aside, lowers his head and begins to lick the wax. His moist tongue instantly soothes the pain. He lowers his head to my clitoris and begins to thump it hard with his tongue. I pull back my legs, spreading them as wide as they will go. After several torturous, pleasurable minutes of him playing, teasing, he penetrates me.

He pushes his penis deep inside me, striking my cervix. I moan out in a mixture of pleasure and pain. Reaching around him, I grab his buttocks and pull him in with each thrust. His warm, sweaty body falls against my chest, sliding up and down, our motion like a well oiled machine. Together we orgasm and when he finishes, he becomes limp, resting on top of me, his breath hot and heavy in my ear.

I grab the sides of his head and lift, his eyes meeting mine.

"I love you," I say.

"I love you too Mia," he returns as he lowers himself and buries his face in my abdomen.

We barely make the plane in time and despite being out of breath from running down the terminal, I am happier than I have ever been. I look out the window, holding Mitch's hand tight in my own and, for the first time, not fearful of take off.

Once we are at cruising altitude I turn to Mitch, only to realize he has been staring at me the entire time; a deep penetrating stare that scares me, and makes my heart flutter at the same time.

"Mia," he says softly, "There are two things we have to do first thing."

I imagine he wants to plan the wedding and I picture large bouquets of vibrant, scented flowers lining the aisle of a grand old church, and me in a beautiful lace dress. I nod my head, anxious for his thoughts.

"You need to see an obstetrician and I want you to meet my mother."

"Oh," I sputter, immediately realizing my utter lack of excitement.

"What's wrong?" he asks, disappointedly.

"I'm sorry," I say, turning my languid expression into a smile. "I was imaging our wedding, but you're right. I need to find a good doctor and of course meet your mom."

"I didn't forget about the wedding," he says with a grin. "I have that all planned. We'll keep it simple, in our new house with a few guests. My little niece will make the perfect flower girl."

My soaring spirits sink as he continues speaking gaily about the wedding, right down to the honey moon. A 'romantic trip to Catalina Island', he says.

"Sounds wonderful," I mumble, and just when I start to protest, I stop, his excitement so palpable that I do not want to spoil the moment.

A simple wedding is not a bad idea, after all, I am pregnant, and even though I am not showing it still makes me uncomfortable. I cannot imagine who I would invite anyway. My mother and sister are the only family I have.

"How many people from your side are you inviting?" I ask, causing Mitch to pause with a nonplussed look.

"Have you been listening to me Mia?" he asks.

"I'm sorry, I was thinking ahead."

He rests a hand of my cheek, pecks me on the lips and says, "My mom and her brother, his two children and their children, so ten people, and you?"

"Just two, my mother and sister," I say as I have second thoughts about inviting them. It would be strange, after so many years of no communication to suddenly invite them back into my life, but how would it look if I had no one. My heart sinks and I want to cry. How sad, how pathetic my life is, but I must not wallow in self-pity. Things will be different with me and Mitch and the baby.

"Mitch," I blurt before he can respond. "What are we going to name the baby?"

"Well, if it's a girl we'll name her Ella after my mother."

"Oh that's so nice, but I was thinking Emily. I've always loved that name."

"Eh, it's okay, but it has no meaning. I'm an only child and promised my mother I'd name my daughter after her."

"Has no meaning," I say, feeling my lips press into a thin line as anger rises inside me. "I've always loved that name, that's meaning enough for me."

"I've upset you, I'm sorry Mia." He raises a hand and caresses my hair, but I draw away from his touch. "Look, Mia, it's important to me, but if it's a boy you can name him. Is that fair?"

"I guess so," I whisper, the hand of guilt forcing me to accept his terms.

I turn away from Mitch and look at the clouds that float by and wonder if I am making a mistake. It feels as if Mitch is controlling my life, our life together. He makes all the decisions and I am only along for the ride. I have no input, and feel as if he dismisses me like one would a child. I love him dearly and want to tell him I want a church wedding and want to go to Tahiti for our honey moon.

"Mitch," I say before whipping around to meet his gaze, determined not to swallow my anger. "Why Catalina Island?"

"Because it's close and I cannot take too much time off with my new job," he returns. "I made the reservations months ago." He smiles, as if expecting me to be in awe of his foresight.

"Oh, it's just…I would've liked to have a say in it. You've left me out of the entire planning."

"It's just it was such short notice, and with your training and all…I thought it'd be easier if I took care of everything."

"Okay, you're right," I say, "It's just not what I imagined-"

"Mia, Catalina Island is absolutely beautiful," he cuts in sharply. "You'll enjoy it, trust me." He twists in his seat, his eyes begin to sparkle and he takes on a gentler tone. "You can plan our second honey moon. Anything you want…surprise me."

"Really?" I ask as my eyes begin to water. "You're so sweet." I place my hands around his face and give him a deep, passionate kiss.

The pilot announces the plane's descent and I sit back, bracing myself, clasping the arm chairs until my fingers turn white, thinking that I truly do not deserve Mitch. I keep trying to find flaws in him, but everything he does, says, makes sense. I feel like a selfish, spoiled brat, the horrible person my mother and sister tell me I am. I am determined to no longer doubt him, or continue to behave like an ungrateful bitch. He is my soul mate, he loves me and I will have to make sacrifices, just like anyone else who gets married.


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

I stare out the large glass doors, watching the sun rays dance on the pool's surface. Little ripples span the water as a gentle breeze passes by. I long to jump into the crisp blue and swim with a burst, releasing the pent up energy from the flight, but I know Mitch is too consumed with the move, and will not approve.

Pushing aside my desires, my sights drift to the privacy fence that encloses the back, leaving only the roof tops of the surrounding homes in view. My eyes flit around the yard, the grass is dry, almost burnt and the land is dotted with a few sparse trees. It's not much to look at, but the large rough paver patio is gorgeous and a bubble of excitement surges through me as I imagine myself dipping in the cool water, pulling a baby inner tube by my side.

"What're thinking about?" says Mitch as he wraps his arms around me from behind.

I place my hands on his and say, "Just thinking about being in the pool…with the baby." I turn to him with teary eyes, throw my arms around his neck and kiss him.

"Do you love the house?" he asks, breaking free from my passionate embrace, like a child too excited to stay still.

"I do Mitch, it's nicer than I imagined."

"Good Mia, because your happiness means more to me than anything else."

I can feel my eyes widen with excitement and I say, "Can we jump into the pool now?"

Mitch releases a giggle. "Well, I don't have my swim trunks."

"We don't need them," I implore. "Look at that fence." I turn and sweep my hand toward the outside.

"The movers will be here within the hour Mia." He ruffles my hair, then touches my nose with his fingertip.

"Another time, maybe?" I ask.

"Of course." He takes a deep breath and runs his hand through his spiky hair. "Hey, you must be tired. Why don't you stay here and I'll go get some food for the week."

"I want to go with you," I say.

"You just relax here and stay in case the movers come early. I'll be back in forty minutes tops. And tomorrow you'll get to meet my mother."

"But don't you want to show me the rest of the house," I say apprehensively.

"It's our house Mia, explore it, and get some ideas."

He delivers one last kiss then races out the door. I find myself alone, and in a house much larger than the one in Texas. All grows silent except for the filter of the pool, giggling, as if mocking my solitude.

I turn from the large glass doors, the sound of my steps on the ceramic tile echoing throughout the house, and find my way to the kitchen. It is huge, complete with state of the art stainless steel appliances. The cabinets are large, caramel stained wood. I approach the sink in the island and stare out the window, finding just the right spot for a play set, where I can wash dishes and watch my child play.

A smile creeps across my face as my thoughts turn to the nursery. With a quick step, I rush to the other side of the house and find the master bedroom, the only one with two huge doors. I step inside, in awe of the coiffured ceiling, like nothing I have ever seen. It's opulence I am not accustomed to, and it makes me uncomfortable. I feel like I am stepping into the life of a kept woman, not what I want to be. Taking a deep breath, I tell myself that I will be independent and will continue to work even after the baby is born, no matter what. Mitch, I am certain, will try to convince me to finish my commitment to the military and stay at home. I am determined not to grow complacent with this luxurious lifestyle, just in case I have to return to more meager means.

My eyes drift from the ceiling to the large French doors that lead out to the pool. I imagine hopping out of bed in the morning and slipping into the water for a swim, just as the sun begins to break the horizon.

I look back into the room and my sights trail off to the master bath. I venture in and a surge of excitement clamps my chest as I eye the huge Jacuzzi style tub, situated against the back wall, surrounded by large glass block windows. Without hesitation, I climb into the tub and lay back, staring at the ceiling.

Mitch is a wealthy man, a good man, a man who loves me despite the possibility of my child not being his. He can have any woman he wants, so why me? I try to shake the thought from my head, but cannot help but feel there is something dark about Mitch that I cannot quite figure out. Sure he is a little controlling, but not like Ben, and he has a passionate loving side that makes my heart leap with joy. I need to accept that he loves me and stop questioning his motives.

Casting negative thoughts from my head, I spring out of the tub and find the other bedrooms. There are a total of three and I pick the largest one as the baby's room. As I stare out the window at the large back yard and the glistening pool, the heat seeping through the window begins to make me sweat. An idea pops into my head, which I try to dismiss, but cannot. I race back to the family room, tear off my clothes, open the sliding glass doors and jump into the pool.

The water shocks me at first, my heart seizing as if hit by a jolt of electricity. When I burst through the surface, I gasp and welcome the warmth of the sun that falls on my face. Taking long strokes, I swim to the end of the pool, and grasp the concrete edge. I push off from the wall, glide on my back, close my eyes, and enjoy the wave of heat that caresses my body.

'Logan would've stayed with me…jumped in and worried about groceries later,' I tell myself.

I push back the tears that threaten to engulf me and remind myself that the baby is most likely his and that Mitch will be a good provider. I exhale, bring my toes to my fingertips and sink to the bottom. I land with a light thud, move my feet under me and push off the floor, breaking the surface.

"Excuse me," calls a voice.

I blink the burning chlorine water from my eyes and focus on the boot clad feet before me. Gasping, I wrap an arm around my chest and pull close to the side of the pool.

"I'm sorry to startle you," he says with a laugh, "but we're here with your things and we're on a tight schedule."

"We?" I say, anxiously looking around, but seeing no one.

"Yes, but they're up front, I won't let them come back here." He squats down and looks me in the face, his eyes alive with amusement. "Can I get you some clothes…or perhaps help you out of the pool?" His smile broadens.

"That won't be necessary," says Mitch angrily, creeping up from behind.

My heart plummets like a rock in water and I cast my eyes away from the worker.

"You shouldn't have come back here. Return to the front and I'll let you in shortly," he barks like a command sergeant.

The man rises slowly to his feet, the smile having left his face. His fingers twitch and then form into tightly clenched fists. Without a word, he turns and leaves.

Mitch stands before me, one hand on his hip and the other tightly grasping the clothes I had torn off before jumping into the pool.

"Really Mia?" He says, his voice taking the tone of a scolding parent. "I told you the movers would be here within the hour and you decide to give them a show?"

"I'm sorry Mitch I wasn't thinking," I sputter as I reach for my clothes.

He jerks back his hand. "So is this how it is Mia? Do you behave like this all the time? Is this how you met your boyfriend…behaving like a little whore?"

"How dare you," I spit through gritted teeth. "I-"

"You need to grow-up Mia," he says, cutting me off. "You're pregnant now and soon to be married. You need to start acting like a wife and a mother to be. You've sowed your wild oats and need to settle down now. I will do anything for you Mia, but you must act appropriately."

"What does that mean?" I ask in barely contained fury. "I wanted to go for a swim and lost track of the time. I wanted you to join me, but you left me here alone. You have no spontaneity at all Mitch and you want to make me dull just like you. Well, I won't have it. You're not changing me and I won't marry a man who sees me as nothing more than a whore!"

I swim to the shallow end of the pool and he follows me nervously. I grasp the rail and rise out of the water. Mitch holds up my clothes in a futile attempt to cover me as he looks back toward the house.

"What, worried they might be peeking?" I ask.

"Okay Mia, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said those things…I just wasn't expecting you to do this." He grabs my arm, pulling me into his chest. He delivers a kiss to my cheek, squeezes me tight, releases, and then pulls my shirt over my head. I jerk my pants from him and slip them over my hips. He grasps my wrist, but I twist free and storm into the house.

Mitch's footsteps echo behind me. He grabs my arm, turning me around to face him. "Look Mia, I told you I'm sorry."

"You keep having these outbursts Mitch…it's like you don't fully approve of me," I whisper, holding back the tears building in my eyes.

"I love you Mia…I'm jealous and need to work on it. I don't want any other man to see you naked, touch you…make love to you." He pulls me into his chest with a roughness that excites me. "I want you all to myself. Is that so bad?"

I shake my head, feeling remorseful for my past infidelities. "I'm sorry Mitch. I know I hurt you and it's my fault you're this way. I promise to be more thoughtful, but you have to know that that I love you."

"I do," he says, the tone of his voice doing little to conceal his doubts.

The doorbell rings, startling me. Mitch smiles, releases his grip on me and turns to the door. I race off to the kitchen to put away the groceries, hoping to avoid contact with the movers.

After several hours the movers finish and leave. Mitch insists on preparing dinner for us, and as I sit at the table, looking out the large glass doors, I think about how lucky I am to have a man like him.

He serves the food like a dutiful spouse, and even though it smells delicious, my appetite wanes and I force myself to eat.

"Everything okay Mia?" he asks as he reaches across the table and grabs my hand.

"Yeah, I'm just tired," I whisper, then yawn.

"Mia," he says, pauses, then squeezes my hand. "I'm sorry about today. You're still young and I'm ten years older than you. We're just at different stages in our lives, but I want to make this work." His expression turns severe and his eyes sparkle with love.

"I understand," I say, "You're ready for a family and, well, I'm not. I never planned for a pregnancy, not so soon in anyway. I'm grateful you're in my life, and still love me despite my lack of good judgment."

"I do love you Mia and I want to marry you, the sooner the better."

"Me too," I eke out, shifting in my seat as inexplicable tendrils of panic take hold of me.

I stand at the door, a smile plastered to my face, my heart pounding in my ears. I wipe my hands on my pant legs, then raise my arms, just enough to allow air to circulate and dry the sweat I feel growing in my pits.

Mitch rings the doorbell and I jump at the shrill bark of a little dog. There is scratching at the door and a distant voice calls out. "Oh, I'm coming, now be quiet Pepite."

I bounce from foot to foot and it feels likes hours pass before the door creaks open.

"Hello dear," says a graying haired lady, her head bobbing with a nervous tick. "This must be Mia, the girl you told me about."

"It is mother," he says as he reaches out, grabbing her arm, steadying her shaky legs.

"It's very nice to meet you," I say with a smile and extend my hand.

"Hug me dear," she says in a cracked voice, "You're going to be family soon…I hear." She winks and takes a tiny step forward.

I wrap an arm around her frail shoulder, the plush feel of her sweater soft against my sweaty palm.

She invites us into the house, and as we walk to the living room, the little dog trots along side me, the sound of its nails reverberating throughout.

I take a seat at the edge of a plastic covered sofa, and the little dog jumps into my lap. Mitch sits next to me and begins to rub the dog's head. His mother plants herself across from me in a large leather chair.

"Oh I see Pepite likes you," she says as she clasps her hands in delight.

"What an interesting name, what does it mean?" I ask.

"It's French for little nugget of gold," she returns, "Perfect for a toy Poodle."

I nod my head in agreement.

"Joan, my in home aide, is out at the moment, so I apologize for not having anything to offer, but Mitch can you be a dear and see what you can whip up in the kitchen? Your poor old mother can't move around like she used to." Her face softens into a pitiful expression.

Mitch rises from the sofa, hesitates, then leaves the room.

"You've a lovely home Mrs. Maynard," I say, feeling my throat tighten under her penetrating stare. I nervously eye small porcelain figures of poodles that adorn the coffee table, oddly placed off to the side.

"Please call me Ella," she says.

Her gaze deepens and she leans forward. "I'm so glad Mitch finally found someone…After the last one I thought he'd never find love again."

"Uh, the girl from Berkeley?" I ask, immediately angry at myself for being so nosey.

"Oh yes," she whispers, then glances back toward the kitchen. "She broke his heart you know, and the lies-"

I lean forward, alert, ready to hang on her every word when I am startled by Mitch's sudden entrance.

"I could only find water," says Mitch, then hands me a bottle.

He sits close to me, the warmth of his leg penetrating my clothes. From the corner of my eye I see him give his mother a stern look.

Ella's smile leaves her face and she casts her eyes down. Seconds later she lifts her head, her smile having returned.

"I hear you're with child," she says.

I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.

"Mother, you're embarrassing Mia," says Mitch in a low tone.

"I'm sorry dear," says Ella, "I'm delighted to finally have a grandchild. Don't be embarrassed."

I twist open my water bottle and take a gulp, praying it slides down easily, and it does.

Pepite jumps to the floor and begins to pace in a circle and whine.

"Mitch, be a dear and let Pepite out," says his mother.

Mitch obeys, once again leaving us alone.

I try to formulate the right, prying words in my head, but before I can speak Ella says, "You're innocent, young, submissive, and perfect for Mitch. The other girl wanted to be independent, have a career, and can you believe she didn't even want children!" She spins a finger above her head in a childish manner, indicating the craziness of it all.

I gulp hard. "What happened?"

"A restraining order's what happened," she asserts, "He gave so much of himself to her and he's such a good boy." She shakes her head, rests back into her chair and releases a disgusted sigh.

I fall back into the comforting embrace of the sofa and do not even notice when Mitch returns. The rest of the afternoon seems to whiz by as I sit, deep in thought, panic filling my chest. Maintaining casual conversation becomes a torturous task and all I can think about is Logan and how much I loved him. Then my mind drifts to Jake, and I wonder if he could fill my need for male companionship. Then I scold myself, I am pregnant, what man wants to take on the responsibility of a child that is not even his? A man with issues would, a man like Mitch. And why would Jake want me anyway? Our relationship was nothing more than a casual affair. He's younger than me, immature, most likely not willing to play dad to a bastard child. Bastard child - how could I think such a thing?

We finally leave and I am impressed with my ability to push through all the politeness on automatic, hopefully not giving my distracted self away.

"Everything alright Mia?" asks Mitch as he throws the car in reverse.

"Yeah, why" I respond defensively, then realizing my mistake, turn away and stare out the window.

"You seemed a little unfocused. I'm sorry I should've warned you about my mother. She suffers from mild dementia. She makes up stories."

"Like a restraining order against you?" I blurt.

Mitch chuckles. "Oh, is she telling that one again? She mixes up my situations with her own."

I turn to him with questioning eyes.

"She had a restraining order against my father Mia, remember?"

"Oh yeah, I do," I say, trying to believe the sincerity of his words. "What exactly happened with that woman anyway?"

"She met an exchange student from Brazil, dropped out of school and went back to Brazil with him."

"Wow, just like that?" I ask and Mitch nods his head. "I'm sorry Mitch, that's a real shitty thing to do."

"It is Mia, but I guess I was boring to her, just like I'm boring to you." His knuckles turn white as he clenches the steering wheel.

I reach over, placing a hand on his thigh. "I'm sorry Mitch; we're going to fight sometimes. I'm mature enough to know that. And sometimes we're going to say things to each other we don't mean."

Mitch presses a warm palm a top my hand. "I love you Mia, more than you'll ever know."

I have difficulty buttoning my uniform jacket, my baby bump just big enough to make my clothes fit tight.

'four and a half months to go,' I think as I turn from side to side, admiring my profile in the mirror.

"Mia I'm leaving," calls Mitch from the other room.

I run out into the foyer, fling my arms over his shoulders and kiss him. "Mitch I can't wait until we're married."

"Next week my love, are you nervous?" he jokes.

"Just a little, I haven't see my family in so long, it's going to be awkward." I stare past Mitch and imagine my mother and sister's scowling faces. The clicking of their tongues jolts my brain, making me shake my head and return my gaze to Mitch, his smiling face instantly comforting me.

"We'll get through it," he says playfully, then kisses my forehead.

I release my hold on him, fold an arm around my midsection and bend.

Mitch rubs a gentle hand up and down my back. "You okay Mia?"

"It'll pass," I say, "The morning sickness is actually getting better and should go away soon, at least that what the doctor says."

He grabs my arms and gives me a little jerk. "Promise me you'll come home if you don't feel better."

"I will," I say.

Mitch checks his watch, grabs his jacket and briefcase and rushes out the door. I follow behind.

I make it to the base and the day drags on as I sit at my desk, trying not to be bored or sick. Sitting so long makes my legs cramp and I am relieved when my phone rings, using that as an excuse to step outside the office.

I look at the phone's screen, which sets my heart racing, accelerating it at each ring, until the beat becomes a painful pounding. I try to resist answering; things with Mitch have been going well, there have been no fights and plenty of time together, but my heart aches for something more, something I am not getting from Mitch. My mind races to Logan, he could be a monster at times, but he was himself. Mitch is everything I want him to be, or at least he tries to be.

Quickly, I swipe the phone and say, "Hello?"

"Hey Mia, good news," says Jake.

I hesitate, then ask, "What?"

"I got the transfer, but I won't be able to start for a few more months."

"Oh, that's too bad," I say, pushing images of him making love to me out of my mind.

"But I have some leave coming up and thought I'd visit you. You living on base?" his voice resonates with a childish excitement.

"Well, not exactly," I sputter. "Um, I'm getting married you know."

"Ah right, you live with him, right?" he says, not sounding the least bit deterred by the situation. "So can you sneak out for a little?"

Even though I have told Jake our relationship is built on nothing more than sex, I feel strangely put off by his lack of jealousy, lack of desire to have me all to himself.

"Well, there's more to it," I say, "I'm pregnant."

The phone falls silent.

I release a sigh, thinking this has finally turned him off.

"How pregnant are you?" he practically whispers.

"Four and a half months."

"Can you still have sex while pregnant?" he asks with an uplifted tone.

"Of course I can," I say, immediately wishing I could take back my words.

"Cool, I've never had sex with a pregnant woman before." A giggle escapes him.

"Look Jake, I don't know if it's because I'm pregnant now, but I don't want to sneak around anymore," I say with determination.

"So should I change my plans Mia, you don't want to see me?" his returns disappointedly.

I begin to chew the insides of my mouth. My hormones want to say yes, but instead I push out an emotionless no.

"Damn, okay, well if you change your mind call me."

"Of course," I return as I hit the end call button, then delete his number from my contacts.

Jake is not Logan and I am proud of myself for realizing that and letting go. I am determined more than ever to spend the rest of my life with Mitch. He is kind, gentle and very tender – as long as I do not disappoint him.

As much as I try to ignore my emotions, the familiar suffocation of Ben shrouds over me, and I worry that once I marry Mitch the good guy act with fade away, along with what remains of my self-esteem. But alone and with a child on the way, I feel I have no choice but to settle.

The wedding day arrives sooner than I had hoped. I stare out the sliding glass doors at the patio, speckled with tables adorned with lacey cloths and small burning candle center pieces. Bouquets of flowers sit atop pedestals, making a fairy tale visage. My heart sinks as my eyes drift to the custom built gazebo Mitch had installed yesterday. It's where we will take our vows. A single tear falls down my cheek, tickling me, yet I refuse to wipe it away. Rubbing my belly I will the panic the rises inside to me to go away. The huge heart centerpiece propped up on a stand at the back of the altar makes me cry. It's the most beautiful floral arrangement I have ever seen, only it is lacking one key element – roses. Instead, it is composed of the largest, most gorgeous carnations, but it's not what I wanted. How can I marry a man who does not even know my favorite flower? Even Ben knows I love roses.

The doorbell rings, startling me from my thoughts. I shake the negative feelings away, wipe away the tear and race to the door. I stand on my tippy-toes and look through the peep hole -my heart clamps as if seized by a vice. I lower on my heels, rest my back against the door and clutch my chest, willing the pain to subside. I am not ready to face them, not after all these years, after all the bad blood.

"Who is it Mia?" calls out Mitch as he enters the room.

My breath catches in my throat. "It's them…my sister and mother."

Mitch gently pushes me aside in a manner as if I am acting silly. I spring forward and grab the door handle, and turn to him with pleading eyes.

"You don't understand Mitch…they are terrible people…I hate to say it, but they are."

"Mia, you're just nervous. I'm sure they're happy to be here and see you."

I step away, positioning myself behind the door as he swings it open.

A smile spreads across his face as he extends his hand. "Hello, you must be Mia's mother and sister."

A silly giggle escapes my mother. "Oh hello, are you Mitch, the man my daughter's marrying?"

"Yes, please come in." He swings the door wide open and makes a sweeping motion with his arm.

I take a deep breath, and then try to suck in my belly.

"Hello, Mia," says my mother.

My sister stands beside her and leers at me with small beady eyes, like a buzzard about to circle its prey. Her gaze falls from my face to my belly, her expressionless mouth morphing into an evil grin.

She peels her eyes away from me, turns on her heel and looks around the house. "You have a nice place here, Mitch," she says, making emphasis on his name.

"Thank you; please come in a have a seat while I get some drinks. Will water be okay?" he asks.

"Oh yeah," says my mother, and again the silly giggle.

Katie and mom sit together on the love seat in the living room, perched at the edge, shoulders touching.

My mother looks back in the direction Mitch went, then turns to me, leans forward and whispers, "Are you pregnant?" Her eyes glint with delight.

"Yes mom I am," I say, the first tingles of anger beginning to rise inside me.

"So that explains the hasty wedding," interjects my sister as the evil grin on her face grows larger.

"Mitch and I planned on marrying before I got pregnant," I say with a huff.

"So what happened to what's his name," says my mom, barely able to contain her delight. She turns to Katie and continues. "What was his name Katie?"

"Um, I believe it was Ben, right Mia?" She shrugs her shoulders and throws up her hands.

"Yeah well, he died," I say.

They both gasp at the same time.

"Really what happened?" asks Katie.

"Car accident," I say, and before they can speak I continue, "Mitch was a partner in his law firm and we fell in love. He was there for me when I was down." I emphasize the 'He'.

The two exchange furtive looks and I wonder if they see through my lie. I spring to my feet and excuse myself to help Mitch. Racing toward the kitchen I catch him just as he is about to enter the room. I grab his arm hard and direct him back into the kitchen.

"They are starting Mitch, please don't leave me alone with them," I demand, my lower lids beginning to pool with tears. "I told them Ben died and you got me through it. Please let's not talk about everything that has happened."

"I think you're being silly Mia, but if that's what you want then ok…anything for you."

"Thank you," I say, then push the tears from my eyes with the palms of my hands.

We return to the room and Mitch and I sit close on the sofa. I stare at him in total amazement as he controls the conversation. My mother loosens up a little, becoming lively, friendly even. After several minutes Katie, who has been quiet the entire time, nudges her as if to awaken the evil inside.

My mother jumps and her face twists into a wicked grin. "So, how did Mia manage to catch a guy like you? She got pregnant I see, but these days that's not enough to trap a man." She exchanges a look with Katie.

I shift in my seat and start to open my mouth when Mitch places a hand on my thigh, immediately comforting me. I fall into his side, grab his hand and squeeze.

"With all due respect Mrs. Barton, Mia is a wonderful person. She's kind, sensitive, smart and beautiful, and if you cannot treat her with the respect she deserves in our home then I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

I contain the giggle that rises inside me as I watch my mother's mouth fall agape and her eyes grow wide.

"We don't have to put up with this," rages Katie, her face contorting into a scowl. "Come mother, let's leave."

"Yes, my, we're obviously not welcome here," says my mother as she springs to her feet, then roughly smoothes the wrinkles from her skirt. "I have a gift for you in the car…I'll mail it to you."

She turns, nose in the air and follows Katie to the door.

"Don't bother Mother," I call after her as she leaves, slamming the door.

Mitch folds me into his arms and holds me tight as I cry.

"Mia, I'm so sorry, was I too harsh?" He lifts my face and stares deep into my eyes.

"Not at all, I told you they're terrible people. I don't know why I invited them. I guess I was hoping they'd be happy for me for once." I take a deep breath, rub my nose with my sleeve and start to laugh.

"What's so funny?" he asks.

"Just it must be killing them that I've met someone like you. You're so perfect Mitch." Suddenly guilt floods through me as I recall all the negative thoughts I had moments earlier.

He pulls me into his chest and begins to caress my hair. I want to make love to him one last time before the wedding, but the doorbell rings and he springs from the sofa, releasing me. The warmth of his touch lingers, making me tingle inside.

"Must be the first of my family," he says delightedly as he rushes to the door, like an excited child.

I slowly rise, straighten my clothes and follow him.

"Bob, I'm glad you made it," says Mitch, smiling large as he shuffles in a man, a woman, who I presume to be his wife, and two children.

He directs his attention to a girl who looks to be around ten years old. "My how big you've gotten Jodie."

I face the family and extend a hand toward the woman. "I'm Mia, it's so nice to meet you."

The woman clasps my hand and gives it a firm shake. "I'm Rose and this is Bob, my husband and our three children. Jodie, she's nine, the little monster running in circles is Jeff, he's seven and my only quiet one, Tiffany, she's twelve."

"What beautiful children you have," I say as I try to place names to faces.

"Mom, mom can we look at the pool!" yells Jodie.

"Go ahead," says Mitch.

"Okay kids, I'm coming," says Rose. She smiles and nods, then walks toward the large sliding glass doors leading to the pool.

"Mia, Bob is my cousin. His brother should be here soon along with my Uncle and Mom. They're coming together."

I follow the men into the living room and sit quietly as they reminisce over the days when Mitch was a small boy. Even though I want to learn everything there is to know about Mitch, I find myself distracted by the giggles of the children outside and imagine my own playing gleefully without a care in the world.

I sigh heavily, relieved that Mitch's family is kind. It's comforting that I will be raising my child in a warm and supportive environment.

"The minister is here," calls out Mitch, breaking me from my thoughts.

A small man in full ceremonial robes shuffles into the house, and after brief introductions he goes outside to the gazebo to prepare for the wedding.

"Where is the rest of your family?" I ask Mitch, then the doorbell rings.

Mitch races away from me, answers the door, and invites in the remaining members of the family. Ella immediately hobbles toward me, her checks ruddy and eyes sparkling.

"Oh dear, I'm sorry we're late…it's my entire fault. I was looking for Mitch's christening gown. It's in a box of his belongings."

Ella clasps his hands together and turns to face the family, everyone having now gathered together in the living room.

"Matt, can you bring in the box of Mitch's things; it's much too heavy for me." She pauses, and continues with a trembling voice, "I'd like for the baby to wear the same Christening gown Mitch wore…and I want to know…is it a boy or a girl?"

Mitch and I look at each other and start to laugh.

"We don't know yet," he says. "The baby is shy and covers its private parts. Hopefully we'll know next month."

A collective laugh echoes throughout the house. The warmth of the people around me nearly brings me to tears. Just as I start to surrender to my overwhelming emotions Ella grabs my arm and gently tugs me toward the master bedroom. I wrap my hand around hers and hold her steady.

"My dear you need to get into your dress."

I look at my watch and my heart begins to race as I realize I have very little time to get ready. Just as I got to close the doors, Matt pushes on the door and pokes in his head.

"Ella, this box is heavy. Where you want it?" he wheezes.

"Oh I don't know," she says as she grasps her graying head and begins to release muffled moans.

"Let's just put it in a closet in one of the spare rooms," I suggest as I race out the door and show Matt to the baby's room.

With some effort Matt hoists the box and places it on the top shelf of the closet. He wipes away the perspiration from his forehead, turns to me and says, "I'm Matt, I'm sorry we weren't properly introduced," he says.

"I'm Mia."

There is a moment of silence as we exchange uncomfortable smiles, then he says, "I'm so glad Mitch is getting married. You make a beautiful couple...and after all he's been through."

His eyes penetrate me, then he shakes his head.

"I know, his rough relationship with his father," I say, reading Matt. "The crime, and then his father being in prison."

"Mitch was a troubled kid, no doubt about that," he says, casting his eyes down and puffing his checks as he releases his breath like a quickly deflating balloon. "But with therapy and medication, he has turned around. I mean just look at this place." He lifts his head and gazes around the room, then focuses back on me. "It's a beautiful house, and he's an excellent attorney. I'm just glad he finally has someone."

I stare back at Matt, speechless. Therapy? Medication? I open my mouth to ask, but Ella barges into the room, out of breath and insisting I get dressed now.

She hustles me off, and though I want to resist, her near hysterics stops me.

I rush to the master bath and pull on my dress. The taffeta hem falls to my ankles and the midsection pulls in just enough to allow room for the baby bump. As I twist the long, lacey sleeves into place a small laugh escapes me. I can hear my mother and sister giggling and commenting on how inappropriate it is for me to be wearing white.

I shake them from my head, relieved that no one has asked me about my family. My eyes shift up and I admire myself in the mirror. My cheeks are full and ruddy, the pregnancy having fattened my face nicely.

There is a gentle knock on the door. "Everything okay dear?" asks Ella, her voice anxious.

"Fine," I call out, and then enter the room.

Ella's hands rise to her mouth as a gasp escapes her. "You're so beautiful," she says, then grabs my shoulders and directs me to a chair.

"I used to be a hairdresser," she says as she gaily pulls up my locks and twists.

I watch in awe as she transforms my lifeless hair into a gorgeous loose fitting bun, leaving out wisps of hair that frame my face perfectly.

When she finishes I thank her and take a minute to stare at my reflection. "Oh."

"What is it?" asks Ella as she rubs my shoulder, her eyes fraught with concern.

"The baby kicked," I say as I rub my belly.

Ella claps her hands together and squeals in delight. "Oh such wonderful news," she says, then her hand flies to her mouth as if suddenly struck by a thought, "but let's not tell anyone until after the wedding."

I nod my head, then rise from my seat and follow Ella into the living room.

Ella opens the sliding glass doors, and takes small childlike footsteps as she finds her place on the patio. A wave of heat rushes over me, instantly comforting the cold chill that rises up from the floor into my bones. The music commences and I start to walk, being mindful to take a pause after each step. My eyes begin to water and I wish I had a veil to cover my face. The baby kicks again and I wonder if it's a sign, a sign to marry Mitch or a warning not to.


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

"Look Mia, I'm sorry," says Mitch, raising tightly clenched fists over his head. "We'll have our honeymoon, I promise."

"You made that promise months ago," I return, my voice rising dangerously. "Look at me. I'm ready to burst and once the baby is born forget it."

He lunges forward, grabbing my arm and drags me across the tile floor. I lock my knees and pull back, but my socks slide as easy as skates on ice.

"What're you doing?" I demand as I struggle to break free.

He turns to me with burning eyes and a red face, looking as if he has just run five miles.

"I want you to take a good look at the elaborate nursery you created Mia," he rages as he pulls me into the baby's room. "Who do you think pays for this?"

"We do Mitch…we do…I work too."

He guffaws and says, "Your income will be just enough to cover the shitty diapers your kid will go through in a month."

I wrench free of him and fold my arms around my belly. "My kid," I whisper.

"Yeah Mia, you want to work and be independent…might as well take over the child rearing as well," he snarls, spraying me with saliva.

"We're going to fight over this again?" I ask with incredulous eyes.

"What is it Mia…you want to be able to take care of yourself once you decide I'm no longer good enough for you…or until you find someone better?"

"I can't take your insecurities Mitch. All along I thought it was I who could not trust you, but now I know it's you who cannot trust me." My voice quivers, yet somehow I manage to hold back the tears that try to surface.

"I can't trust you Mia," he returns matter-of-factly, "you're like a child who, if not watched closely, manages to get into trouble."

"Can you blame me," I shoot back, "You're never here anymore. All you do is work."

"Because of you," he yells, then approaches me, causing me to take a step back. "Look at this lifestyle you want." He waves a hand and clucks his tongue.

"I never wanted all this Mitch…a big house…a pool. It's nice, but if we can't afford it then we need to do something."

He grabs my wrist and pulls, nearly jerking me off my feet. With his face close to mine he snarls. "I can afford this, but all this crap for a baby is unnecessary."

I try to break free, but his grip only tightens. "Mitch I rather have less house and more time with you…you, me and the baby." I blink out the tears the pool in my lower lids.

He releases his hold, runs a hand over his head and says, "Mia, you don't know what you want." A small smirk escapes him as he charges past me and leaves the room.

I jump at the sound of the front door slamming.

I stare at the crib, my eyes drifting lifelessly over the blue fish print bed set I had mulled for days before purchasing. The baby kicks, bringing me back to my senses, making me laugh. Another sign, I wonder. Streams of mucus run from my nose and I race to the bathroom, grabbing some tissues. My eyes lift and I catch my reflection in the mirror. I push back my hair, drop the tissues and start rubbing my belly. The baby responds with another kick. I hope the child is Logan's, and I start to cry as I think about all the good times we had together. He acted so tough, yet cared so deeply for me. I remember him rescuing me from the water, something Mitch either could not, or would not do. Tired and cold, I looked up into Logan's face, my eyes blurry and thinking there was a halo gracing his head. I tell myself he cannot be dead, he was larger than life, it cannot be possible – my phone rings, startling me from my thoughts.

I rub a hand under my nose and race out of the room.

"Hello," I say, hoping, for one brief moment, to hear Logan's voice.

"Oh hello dear how are you feeling?" asks Ella.

"A little sick," I say. "I'm taking my leave already."

"Are you crying?" she asks, her voice deep with concern.

"A little…just anxious about the baby…Tyler." I inhale deeply.

"What a lovely name you chose," she says, then pauses. "Mia…we need to plan the Christening."

"Ok, I'm sure Mitch is on it," I say with sarcasm, feeling my sadness turn into anger.

"Perhaps dear, but you never responded to my email about the Christening gown, are you okay with it?"

"Oh, sure," I say, having forgotten about it. "It'll be fine."

"Oh great," she giggles. "I'll call Mitch and ask for the dates."

'Of course you will', I think. Mitch makes all the plans, and objecting to the Christening gown, the one he wore as a baby, would not matter.

I return to the nursery and take a moment to look at the bi-fold closet doors. Remembering how much Matt struggled to lift the box, I leave, returning with a step ladder.

I pull back the doors and eye the large box, imagining the gaudy dress that is crammed somewhere inside. Climbing the rungs carefully, I grasp the shelf to keep balance. With some effort I open the box, the smell of old papers and musty antiques overwhelming my senses.

I hold my nose until the initial malodorous burst disperses. Delving into the box I pull out a handful of papers. They have yellowed slightly and I flip through them carefully. They are letters of recommendation and accolades for making the dean's honor roll. Placing them aside I dig deeper and find trophy's of golden figures in martial art poses.

My heart surges with guilt as I realize how accomplished Mitch is considering his rocky past. But then I get angry thinking about how helpless Ella is and how she must have depended so much upon her son for financial and emotional support that he is incapable of relinquishing any control in any of his relationships. It's a trait that may make for a good attorney, but as a spouse I feel like I have married another Ben.

As I get further to the bottom of the box my fingers become my eyes. Something plastic grabs me and I pull out the object, the gown, nicely folded in a clear bag. A sigh of relief escapes me as I admire the crisp, white cotton and sparse, yet delicate lace trim. It's beautiful and I can easily imagine Tyler in it.

Placing the dress aside I give in to my curiosity and push my hand to the bottom of the box. Something soft meets my fingertips, and I manage to catch it and pull it out. I can feel my brow furrow as I examine the object. My fingers dig deep into the soft, brown strands of the curly haired wig.

I begin to shiver as thoughts of Ben take over me. His face floats before me, framed with dark, curly locks. It has been so long since I last saw him and I wonder how I could have possibly forgotten about him. Maybe because I am so certain he killed Logan, but I never found out if he was convicted of the crime.

I nearly fall off the ladder as I scramble down the rungs. Taking a deep breath I rub my belly as the baby shifts position, pressing against my stomach, sending caustic vile up my throat. Once the burning subsides I race to the master bedroom and open my laptop.

My phone jingles to life. "Hello," I say.

"Hey Mia, look I'm sorry about earlier, can you forgive me?" asks Mitch in a conciliatory tone.

"I…I'm really hurt by what you said Mitch – that's it's my baby…It felt like you don't want to take him as your own if we find out he's not yours."

"We'll never find out," snips Mitch, "and that's the way I want it. He's mine Mia and I really am sorry."

I find myself forgiving him again, just like I always did with Ben.

"What about my career? I went to college to be able to go out and work. I want to work." The tremble in my voice now subsides and certainty surges through me. "I will work!"

"Sure Mia, I wanted you to stay home with him. I didn't want him to be raised by strangers, but you have your goals and I respect that," he says indifferently. Just as I open my mouth to speak he continues. "My mother called about the Christening, did she talk to you?"

"She did Mitch, have you decided when it'll be?" I ask, relieved by the change of subject.

"No not yet, but I thought we'd look at the gown together. She brought a box of my things over on our wedding day." He chuckles. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know…I forgot I guess."

"Oh, okay, well, I'm coming home early today so we can look together."

I gulp hard and say, "I'm sorry Mitch, but I've already pulled it out. It's absolutely-"

"Mia how could you," he cuts in sharply, "surely you would've asked me before going through my personal things."

"I'm sorry I didn't realize it was too personal for your wife."

The line goes silent. "I've got to go. I'll see this evening," he says.

My mind races and I dial Ella.

"Hi Ella, I've put aside the gown for the baptism," I say as soon as she answers the phone.

"I'm so excited Mia…you're such a beautiful mom," she chirps.

"Ella, I found one of your wigs in the box, do you want it back?" I ask.

She giggles. "Oh no dear, that's not mine. Don't know why in the world Mitch gave that to me to keep. He's so silly sometimes."

"Okay, well thanks Ella, I've got to go now."

I turn back to my laptop and open a browser and search for Ben, finding a month old article from a local San Antonio newspaper. My hand instinctively flies to my mouth as a gasp escapes me. Faint tendrils of panic creep over me, numbing me as a single tear falls from eye.

The headline reads: 'Man Acquitted of Murder due to Lack of Evidence.'

As I read on I learn that key forensic evidence, such as fingerprints and DNA was either not present, or yielded inconclusive results.

A jangle of keys distracts me, and for a moment I think it is Ben, he has found me and is here to finish me off once and for all. The front door closes, barely audible and I manage to peel my eyes away from the computer screen.

"Hello Mia," says Mitch as he enters the room.

"Mitch…did you know that Ben was acquitted…four months ago?" I ask.

"That surprises me," he says, then races to my side. "What're you reading?"

"A write up from the San Antonio Gazette," I say and continue to scan the article, my heart seizing as I read that one of the victims survived, and they are hopeful of gaining information from him about the perpetrator of the crime.

Mitch reaches past me and lowers the laptop screen. "Mia, why do you read that? We know Ben did the crimes…he had a good attorney."

"No…no," I say as I nod my head. "There was no evidence, nothing to trace him to the crimes Mitch. That means he may not have murdered those men."

I refrain from mentioning there was a survivor. Anxiety overtakes me, not knowing who it is, although I am certain it is Logan. It has to be him, and it has to be a sign. Yes – a sign that we are meant to be together. I imagine he read my text message, me telling him that I loved him, and it gave him the will to survive. A wave of excitement surges through me, my heart feeling like an exploding butterfly. I want to read on, and confirm it is him, but my eyes fall on Mitch. His face is cold and an eye begins to twitch.

"So you think he's innocent now do you?" he says in barely contained fury.

"I…I don't know Mitch," I say, then grab his hand. Willing the lump in my throat not to reveal the fear that percolates through my body, I continue, "It's all so sad, but enough about that, let's look at the gown."

His eyes fall on the wig and then on me, looking at him, wide eyed. "I see you found my mother's old wig."

"Yes, I pulled it out so we can return it to her," I say, wanting to ask why she said it is his, but then remembering her mild dementia. "Why are you home so early?"

"Because I knew you wouldn't wait for me," he says, then pulls me to my feet, a broad grin spreading across his face. He removes the Christening gown from its protective plastic covering and admires it.

"It's almost like new," he says.

I force a smile and then double over when a pain shoots through my uterus. I feel a small pop and warm liquid oozing down my leg.

"Oh my God," I say, "My water broke."

Mitch wraps an arm around me. "Let's get you to the hospital."

Mitch helps me to the car and I sit back in the comforting leather seat, resting a hand on my belly as the contractions start to strengthen.

"How are you?" asks Mitch, turning to face me, his eyes radiating with concern.

"It's not so bad," I return, "but I'm sure it'll get worse."

I turn away from him, not wanting my eyes to reveal what I know.

He rests a clammy hand on my arm and says, "Mia, I love you more than life itself. I'd do anything for you…you and the baby. You know that, right?"

"Yes Mitch," I say with a labored breath.

By the time we reach the hospital the pain is excruciating, and I am quickly hustled off to a bed in a private room. I refuse medication and try to sit-up, the only position that alleviates the sharp stab of the contractions, but a nurse standing sentinel, demands I lay back.

"It's too painful," I plead.

Mitch grabs my hand and squeezes. "Take long deep breaths Mia."

I look into his eyes and see joy mixed with panic. "Mitch…" I want to tell him I love him because I know - feel how deeply he cares for me, but I think back to the victim who survived. My body now totally consumed with physical pain, and my mind with deep mental anguish.

"Give her something," he snaps at the nurse. "Can't you see she's suffering?" He grips my hand even tighter and raises it, gently brushing his warm, soft lips over my knuckles.

I want to refuse medication, but don't. The nurse inserts a syringe into the IV and pushes. Taking long deep breaths, I force myself to relax and try to ignore the pain until the medicine kicks in.

Soon thoughts of Logan enter my head. I lay back on my damp pillow, willing the memories of him to fade away, but no matter what I do, every time I close my eyes, the vision of his face hangs in the darkness.

"Mia, Mia," I hear faint tendrils of voices echoing from somewhere in the distance.

I open heavy eyes and see Mitch standing over me.

"What happened?" I ask, fear ripping through me as I see the look of horror on his face.

"She's all right," says the nurse.

"Mitch?" I feel panic rise inside me, but my mind does not connect with the rest of my body and all I can do is wait in a state of paralysis, hoping – praying that I really am all right.

I feel a warm hand squeeze my arm. "You had a reaction to the sedative, but you're okay now."

Mitch's face relaxes and a smile spreads across his cheeks. I hear a small cry and follow his eyes to the end of the bed.

I catch a glimpse of the baby, and then darkness falls over me.

The faint sound of distant voices buzzes in my ears. I strain to make out the words, but cannot. Slowly I open my eyes and through blurry vision make out Mitch. He is by my side, holding my hand.

"Mia, you're awake!" he exclaims, then leans forward from his chair and plants a kiss on my cheek.

"What happened?" I ask as I make a motion to pull myself up.

Mitch puts a hand on my shoulder and insists I remain lying down. "You had a bad reaction to the sedative. I'm so glad you're awake."

My eyes slowly adjust and I blink away the blurriness.

A stream of tears trickles down Mitch's cheeks. "I thought I was going to lose you."

My stomach turns and a wave of nausea passes over me. "I don't feel so good," I say.

Mitch calls in the nurse and she injects something in my IV to settle my sickness. Moments later another nurse arrives, wheeling in a plastic bassinet. My heart surges and my hand flays about my side for the bed control. When I find it I raise myself, my eyes fixed on the basinet as the nurse rolls it to my side.

I lean over and look inside at the little red face sticking out of the blanket, like a caterpillar breaking from its cocoon. The traditional pink and blue stripped hat rests just above his eyes and covers the tips of his ears.

"He's beautiful," I whisper and then burst with tears.

The nurses leave and Mitch gently lifts the baby out and hands him to me. My hands tremble as I take his warm, little body into my arms. His face is red and puffy, his eyes shut. I turn an ear to him, listening for his breath.

Mitch places a hand on my head and begins to caress my hair. "I'm so happy Mia, we're parents and look at his chin…he has my chin."

A twinge of disappointment passes through me and I secretly scold myself for the feeling. Tyler is my child regardless of who the father is. I love him very much and nothing in the world will change that.

"Mia, I've got to go…I'm needed in court…I hope you understand." He squeezes my hand, leans over and kisses me on the lips.

"Of course," I say, briefly looking at him, retuning my eyes to Tyler.

"I'll come back when I'm done, okay?"

"Sure," I say.

Tyler stirs, twists his head a little and opens his eyes. Through tiny slits I see glimmers of blue-gray and wonder how long before the color sets.

"I love you so much," I say as I nuzzle him

I pace the room, cradling Tyler in my arms and looking into his eyes. A surge of joy shoots through me and I wonder how I could have questioned wanting a baby. The love I feel is so strong, stronger than what I even felt for Logan, but then he is a part of Logan, of that I am certain.

"The door swings open and Mitch pokes in his head. "Hey sunshine are you two ready to go?"

"Been ready," I say as I place the baby in the carrier, then swing my overnight bag over my shoulder.

Mitch grabs the diaper bag and Tyler. "Boy he's a heavy baby," he sighs. "How you gave birth to a nine pound child is a mystery to me."

I grab Mitch's arm, appreciative of him being here for me, just as he promised. He has been the only man to actually follow through for me, but my heart still longs for Logan and the anxiety of not knowing if he is alive eats at me like thousands of fire ants.

The car ride home is quiet and I often catch Mitch staring at me, but I do not return the look.

"Mia, Mia," I hear in the distance and only respond when Mitch grabs my arm.

"Wha-" I begin, as I feel myself being sucked away from thoughts of Logan.

"The baby," he says, looking at me with suspicious eyes.

I hear Tyler crying and turn to see his head has flopped to the side. Panic rushes over me and I reach back and adjust his head. The crying subsides and he falls back asleep.

"Mia, are you okay?"

"Of course I am," I snap, the anxiety of not knowing about Logan gnawing away at every nerve fiber.

"You're not all right, maybe my mother can spend time with you…help out."

"No, I'm fine, just tired," I return with as soft a voice as possible. "I want to spend time alone with Tyler, and get to know him." I reach across and place a hand on his thigh. "You understand?"

"Of course, babe," he says, his eyes lingering on me a little longer than comfortable.

I stare out the window feeling angry at myself for having forgotten my cell phone, but it was all so sudden and there is no use blaming myself for it now. It is important for me take charge of my life and move forward, doing what is best for the baby. But then the strings of guilt wrap around my heart and squeeze. Mitch is a great guy, most of the time, and seems to love Tyler, but he is controlling and feels more and more like Ben every day. I try to convince myself that he does not beat me, and that maybe - just maybe I bring the fighting and negativity to myself. Still I have a nagging feeling about him that I just can't shake.

"We're home…Tyler's first day home," says Mitch, taking a moment to look back over his shoulder at the baby. A smile creeps across his face and he continues, "Look he woke up for the event."

He springs out of the car, opens the back door, pulls out his cell phone and takes a picture. I exit the car and Mitch insists on taking several more snapshots of me and Tyler. I should be happy, excited that I am home with the baby, and while I am glad to have left the hospital I am consumed with thoughts of Logan.

Once I settle Tyler into his crib, I run to my room and make a frantic search for my phone. Not finding it, I stop, run a hand through my hair and look around the room.

'Think Mia, think, where'd you last leave it.' I draw a blank, make a fist, and begin to gently pound my head.

"What're looking for?" asks Mitch in a distrustful tone.

"My phone," I say. "I wanted to tell my co-workers about Tyler."

"They already know, I told them," he responds. "Just relax Mia, use this time productively. It needs to be all about you and Tyler." He approaches me with open arms and I fall into his chest, inhaling his scent that still reminds me of our first night together at the bar.

"I'm really going to enjoy my time with Tyler," I say, "but I need my phone…I feel so lost without it. Have you seen it?"

"No," he says as he pets me.

I do not believe him and wonder if he has any notion that Logan is alive.

"You hungry Mia, can I get you something to eat?" he asks.

I yawn. "No, I think I'll lie down until the next feeding."

I collapse into bed, feeling not only physically, but also emotionally exhausted. Images of Logan, walking toward me with his cocky gait over take me and I worry it is his ghost. No, he is alive, I convince myself. Soon, the visions disappear and I drift off into darkness.

All is quiet when I wake and I look at the clock. I spring out of bed, brush the hair from my face and race to the nursery. Just as I start to burst through the door the sound of gentle cooing stops me. I enter the room, careful not to make any noise. Mitch looks up at me from the gliding chair, Tyler in his arms. He gently rocks the baby. Tyler looks so tiny, snuggled in Mitch's large bicep, his other hand grasping a near empty baby bottle.

"Hey precious, you're awake." he says, beaming with delight.

"Yeah, thanks for feeding him," I say as I race toward him and take the baby. "My breasts are killing me; I hope he has room for more."

Mitch laughs, rises and helps me sit back in the chair. "You must be hungry. I'll fix you something before I leave."

"Leave?" I ask.

"Sorry Mia, I've got to go back to work." He walks away, turning to say, "I found your phone in the bathroom, it's charging in the kitchen."

"Thanks," I say with a gulp, angry at myself for thinking he had hidden it from me.

Tyler takes readily to my breast and as I glide in the chair, my eyes lock with the baby's and I think about how much I love him.

I hear the front door close and Tyler soon falls asleep. I gently pull him away from my breast and lay him in his crib. I go to the kitchen and find my phone. My heart leaps as I turn it on, thinking, hoping there is a message from Logan, but there is nothing. Not even a missed call. I sigh disappointedly and go to the master bedroom and open my laptop.

It seems likes minutes before the browser opens and I do a search for Lieutenant Logan McCoy. My fingers tremble as I scroll down the page, looking at all the bright blue links. One catches my eye:

'Lieutenant Logan McCoy survives vicious Cyanide Attack.'

My hands fly to my mouth and I began to sob uncontrollably.

"I knew he was alive," I whisper.

I walk away from the computer and begin to pace the room, feeling like a crazy woman as I switch from laughing to crying. My stomach turns and I feel sick, but quell the nausea, driven by the need to know more.

I return to the computer and follow the link, my heart racing and my eyes blurry. I wipe away the tears, blink several times and read on.

'Doctors are calling it a miracle that Lt. Logan McCoy survived a vicious cyanide attack. This promising military officer apparently went out partying in celebration of his upcoming graduation from officer training school. When he returned to Maxwell Air Force base, it is believed a person was hiding in his room and attacked him, dispensing cyanide into his mouth.

Fortunately for Lt. McCoy, he not only spit out most of the chemical, but also had good friends nearby, who got him help. Also, after some heavy drinking, he consumed several cups of black coffee before returning to base, which seemed to impede the effects of the poison.

'Coffee does not sober-up people,' said Dr. Harman, the internist treating Lt. McCoy, 'but it was a good call because caffeine significantly inhibits the metabolism of methacrylonitrile to cyanide.'

Methacrylonitrile is a chemical compound often used in the production of polymers and is believed to be the poison used in this vicious attack. When ingested or absorbed through the skin, it is metabolized and converted into the deadly cyanide compound.

'We thought he was dead,' said an emergency technician at the scene of the crime. 'We bagged the body.'

When questioned, Dr. Moore, the pathologist, stated that he was suspicious because the body was too warm for the amount of time between being pronounced dead until he landed on his examination table.

Lt. McCoy has been out of the hospital for several months now, but kept his whereabouts a secret, possibly by request of the military while they tried Ben Burls for the murder, of which he was acquitted.

'We're happy he's alive,' said Colonel Powell. 'We kept him being alive quiet for as long as we could, but it eventually got leaked out. We're still searching for his attacker.'

When questioned about who could have done such a thing, and if they had any leads in the case, the police and military refused further questioning.

'It's frightening to think that military security is so lax that anyone, a killer, can get on base,' said a crying Mrs. Logan as she stood by her son, holding his hand, her only other son having been killed in Operation Iraqi Freedom.

It's not clear how the killer got on base, but it is believed he was using another military officer's identification. The other man, Colonel McIntyre, was not so lucky, having been found strangled in a hotel.

The military is now facing a lot of heat and investigations from the state department for this lapse in security. As for Lt. McCoy, he is lucky to be alive.'

My chest feels as if hundreds of butterflies are trapped inside, trying to escape the furious pounding. My legs grow weak and I collapse in a nearby chair, willing my heart to stop racing. After several deep breaths and a few giggles I manage to collect myself and grab my phone. I search through my contacts for Logan and his number is gone.

Fear shoots through me and then anger floods my soul as it occurs to me that Mitch went through my phone and deleted Logan.

I spring to my feet, and begin to pace. How dare him search my phone and remove Logan. He has no right, considering how angry he got when I opened his box. And what it is about that box that made him so mad, I wonder. Then my mind goes back to Matt saying that Mitch had therapy and took medications. Is he cured, or does he think he is cured? And what is wrong with me that I am blind to someone who is obviously not sane?

My mind is a storm of emotion and then I remember I had created a backup list of contacts on my laptop, just in case I lost my phone. I rush back to my computer and find Logan's number. With trembling hands I start to text message, but cannot get my fingers to work. Logan has been poisoned, calling him and talking to him would be more personal, I tell myself, even though I fear hearing his voice.

Without further thought I dial the number, rest back in the chair, take a deep breath and exhale.

"Hello," echoes on the other end.

I cannot find my voice, swallowing hard and parting my lips to speak, but nothing comes out.

"Hello?" Again.

It is a female's voice, the ex-wife perhaps - no - the wife he is separated from. Now is the perfect time to rekindle lost love. Maybe this is why he has not contacted me. Maybe he blames me for the attack on him.

"Who is this?" says the woman, clearly annoyed.

"M-Mia," I stammer, "Can I speak to Logan?"

"Logan cannot come to the phone now," she says matter-of-factly.

"Can you tell him I called?" I ask.

There is a pause. "Who are you?" she asks.

I want to tell her the mother of his child, the woman who never stopped thinking about him, the woman who thought he was dead and could barely function because of it.

"Mia, a friend of his from the base," I whisper.

"Okay, I'll let him know," she says and the line goes dead.

I pitch my phone to the side and begin to sob wildly. How could she be so mean, but when I begin to calm down I realize that the woman on the other end sounded older, and that maybe she was Mrs. McCoy. And just maybe she is annoyed with the constant calls he must be receiving from well-wishers and journalists. After all, she almost lost her only other child.

I wipe away my tears and decide to text message, 'Logan please call me…Mia'

In the distance I hear Tyler crying and I race to the nursery. I take a moment to stare into his little red face, the swelling around his eyes now subsiding. His hands are clenched tight and he waves furious fists in the air. I grab him up into my arms and sit in the glider, gently rocking as I place my nipple in his mouth.

The day passes slowly and it takes all my effort not to check my phone every few minutes. I have sent my message to Logan and he will respond if he still loves me. There is nothing I can do to change that. Still, part of me wants to pack a bag, grab Tyler and run to the hospital. But how I can tell him the child is his if I do not know for certain? It would be unfair, undue stress on a man who has already suffered so much. No I will wait.

Weeks pass and I have not heard from Logan. There is a giant hole in my heart, and if not for Tyler, I would wallow in self-pity.

I hold the baby tight in my arms and stare into his green eyes, Logan's eyes, convincing me that he is indeed his child. I feel the corners of my mouth turn up into a smile as I imagine him growing into a fine young man, just as handsome as his father, but would it be fair for me to tell him Mitch is his dad? Would it be fair for me to tell him his real dad rejected me - us?

"Mia," says Mitch as he steps in close, taking me by surprise, and begins stroking my hair. "Are you okay? I think you need to see a doctor."

"I'm fine," I snap, "why do you keep insisting I need help?"

"You're obviously suffering from post-partum depression, Mia," he says, releasing an exasperated sigh. "You mope around the house all day, and we haven't had sex in weeks."

"The doctor said we have to wait six weeks, you know that," I retort.

"Mia's it's been two and a half months," he says angrily.

I am stunned and realize he is right, and then the fact that I have to return to work in two weeks hits me like a lead weight. How can I go back to work, and on a base, a constant reminder of Logan and the fact that he no longer loves me?

"I'm sorry Mitch, maybe you're right," I say, thinking that I may need some help getting over Logan. "I'll think about it, okay?"

He kisses the top of my head and leaves the room to make dinner.

Tyler smiles, yawns and closes his lids, shutting out his green eyes - another reminder of Logan. I gently place him in the crib, and just as I leave the room my phone vibrates.

'Probably work again,' I think, but to my surprise it is a message from Logan.

My heart beats in my fingertips and I place a hand over my mouth, repressing the happiness that tries to escape me. I sneak out of the nursery and lock myself in the master bathroom.

With a trembling finger I swipe the envelope. 'Mia, so glad to hear from u. Sorry I couldn't contact u. Call when u can.'

I become as still as possible, evening holding my breath until I am certain Mitch is not lingering around. I go into the little room that houses the toilet, close and lock the door.

I swipe the phone, my breath becomes shallow and it feels like forever before a voice greets me on the other end.

"Hello," says Logan, in a rough, but sexy tone.

I start to sob, and even though I try my best to control it, my voice quivers. "Logan, you're…you're alive. I thought you were dead."

"Ah Mia it's so good to hear your voice," he says with an up-beat tone. "Once I came out of the coma, you were all I could think about."

"I'm so sorry" I say. "It's all my fault-" I frantically wipe at the tears that roll down my checks.

"Whoa," he interrupts, "It's not your fault Mia. Don't ever say that. In fact, it was you who gave me the strength to recover. I want to see you…hold you."

"But Ben was acquitted and I'm certain he was the one who attacked you…because of me."

"It wasn't Ben, Mia."

"Then who?" I whisper as it suddenly occurs to me that it may have actually been Mitch after all.

"I don't know Mia, I don't remember much about that night. I'd had a too much to drink…and it was dark," he sighs, sounding more exhausted than annoyed. "Look Mia, they'll find the person soon enough, but all I care about is you."

"Did you get my-"

"Last text, telling me you loved me? Yes."

My heart leaps. "I do love you Logan and it nearly broke my heart when you didn't return my call."

"I'm sorry," he says apologetically, "but the military made me keep quiet. I couldn't take it anymore and let the fact that I am still alive slip."

"Why the secrecy?" I ask.

"Bad press for the military, plus their inability to find the killer…Look Mia I don't care about that…All I want is you."

I gulp hard and my entire body starts to tremble like a leaf in a breeze. "Logan, what about your wife?"

"We're separated Mia. I'm sorry I should've told you. The divorce was finalized yesterday."

A wave of relief rushes over me, but is soon replaced with needles of panic.

My throat constricts as I say, "Logan…I'm married now."

Silence at the other end.

"I know Mia, I searched for you and found the announcement in the newspaper, Mitch, right? The man you told me you loved and planned to marry."

"But I don't love him. It wasn't until I thought I'd lost you that I realized how much I cared for you."

"Why would you marry a man you don't love?" he asks.

"It's complicated. I…I was pregnant..." My voice falters and I cannot continue.

"I see. He got you pregnant…wow." The devastation in his voice is like a knife in my heart.

"No, no he didn't."

The line falls silent and then I hear a muffled laugh. "Is it our baby?"

"He has your green eyes, your beautiful green eyes," I say softly. When Logan does not respond, I continue, "I want to see you."

"What's the baby's name?" he asks.

"Tyler."

A sob and he says, "A boy. When can I meet him?"

"I don't know…I'm going to have to sneak around Mitch."

"Can we meet?" he asks, his voice sharp with excitement.

"I…I don't know. I want to, but…" I sputter, angry at myself for feeling a sudden change of heart. Mitch has been good to me and will take care of me and Tyler.

"Mia you still love him don't you?"

"I don't know," I say. "I'm so confused and I love you with my whole heart."

"Meet me Mia and you'll remember why we're meant to be together," he says with a wounded, yet assured voice.

"Where are you?" I ask.

"L.A., not far from you…Palmdale, right?"

"Yes," I say as I raise a trembling hand to my mouth.

"Come over to my house tomorrow…my mother's house… We can spend the day together. I ship out in a few days."

"Where to?" I ask, hoping its Edward's, but it's Buckley.

"Ok, I've got to go." I pause, gulp hard and continue, "I love you."

"Me too," he says and line falls silent.

The calls ends and anxiety takes over me as a whirlwind of emotions erupts in my head. How am I going to sneak past Mitch? And what if I get caught?

I open the door and gasp, nearly toppling over backward. Mitch stands in front of me, his face red and contorted. The little vein in his forehead throbs like a hose about to burst. He grabs my arm, pulls me and shoves me to the floor.

My wrists feel like they crack as I strike the hard tile. I turn to him with teary eyes. "I'm sorry Mitch."

"Shut up!" he yells. "You're not leaving me Mia. You and Tyler are mine, do you understand?"

I pull myself up from the floor. "I need to see Logan Mitch…I still love him."

"You don't love me Mia? What about me?" he asks as his anger dissolves into a fit of sobbing. He pushes his hands through his hair and turns away from me.

"You changed Mitch…you were so sweet at first, but it's like once you felt certain you had me you became distant," I say in as soft as tone as possible.

His muscular back trembles under the weight of his sobs, tearing at my heart. He has his flaws, but he is a good man. I want to wrap my arms around him -hug him - kiss him. My love for him is undeniable, but I still long for Logan. Perhaps I have mistaken unfulfilled lust for love?

Mitch turns to me with burning eyes. "You don't like men who treat you well? I reviewed the case against Ben; I know that Logan is a sexual sadist. Is that what you like Mia? To be degraded, humiliated? I've provided for you. I've taken responsibility for a child that I now know is most likely not mine."

The strings of guilt that bind me start to constrict, making it difficult for me to breathe. I make a start toward him, but he steps away.

"I can't express how I feel," I explain. "Most of the time you've been very good to me, but you want to control me, make all my decisions…and now that we're married I feel like I barely exist. I existed with Logan."

"Mia you didn't spend enough time with him. What happens when the lust wears off?" he snivels, then takes a seat on the edge of the roman tub.

"Maybe you're right," I practically whisper, "We really didn't spend a lot of time together. Maybe I'm blinded by the sex."

He wipes the back of his hand under his nose, takes a few deep breaths and looks up at me. "Mia, delete him from your phone and forget him."

"I…I can't do that…I'm not ready for that. I need to know if we're meant to be together."

Mitch rests his elbows on his legs and cradles his head. "Mia, it's either him or me."

"I understand Mitch. I just need a little time. I love you Mitch. I really do."

He smirks. "I don't think you understand." He lifts his head and clasps his hands together. "You decide now, me or him."

His stormy eyes penetrate to my soul. I think back to the night we spent in the hotel, eating chocolate covered strawberries and making passionate, feeling love.

"You," I say with a heavy heart and I hand him my phone. "Delete him."


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

His bloodshot eyes remain fixed on me throughout dinner, making the uncomfortable silence practically unbearable.

Not able to take it anymore I blurt, "Mitch, how're we going to make this work?"

He drops his fork, its clinking on the plate startling me. "What are your complaints Mia, I don't let you make enough of the decisions?"

Unsure if he is being sincere or sarcastic, I simply nod my head.

"Okay, for now on I run everything by you first and we'll discuss it. I'm sorry. I'm used to taking charge. I had to; it was thrust upon me at an early age." His eyes drift from me to his plate.

I set my fork aside, having barely eaten any food. "What happened in your childhood…and I mean outside your father. Why were you in therapy and on medication?"

His eyes grow wide and he leans back in his chair. A smile spreads across his face. "Mia, who told you about that?"

I feel like I should lie, cover for Matt, but realize I have no reason to do that. "Matt told me."

"That's it…that I had therapy and was on meds?" I nod my head and he continues, "So he didn't tell you I had a mental break in law school after Sabrina dumped me?"

"Sabrina, Huh," I say, thinking out loud, never hearing mention of her name before. "The girl who broke your heart?"

"Yeah, we were engaged and she told me on Valentine's Day that she was in love with someone else. An exchange student she'd fucked a couple of times." He leans forward, slamming his elbows into the table, rattling the plates and utensils. "I couldn't let go. I saw her in my house. I saw her with my babies, but no she had to be with some exotic exchange student." He releases an angry smirk.

"So what happened?" I ask without as much as a waver in my voice, determined to get to the bottom of Mitch.

"I got obsessive…I admit it...I followed her, begged her, but she wouldn't change her mind." He folds his arms across the table, takes a pause to read me, then says, "She kept the engagement ring I gave her and got a restraining order against me. Who does that?"

"She kept the ring," I say in disbelief.

My sights drift away from him and the tears that had been threatening to build in my eyes finally form and make their way down my cheeks.

"I left her alone after the restraining order. I sought counseling to get past her and I was placed on some anti-depressants for a while. It took about a year, but I finally got over her."

I rise from my seat and race to Mitch's side, grabbing his hand and squeezing.

"I'm so sorry Mitch." My body begins to tremble as I break under the strain of today's events.

"Can you understand why I can't lose you Mia? You're even more special to me than she ever was. I meant it when I told you I loved you, but all along you never loved me. It's not fair to hurt someone like this, to fuck with their heart."

His hand tightens on mine like a steel trap. I moan out in pain and manage to wrench free.

"I do love you Mitch…I'm just so confused…I have to settle my feelings for Logan once and for all."

Feelings of guilt grip me and I begin to caress his hair, but thoughts of Logan continue to race through my head. Mitch turns to me, buries his face into my chest and begins to sob wildly. The heat of his breath and the wetness of his tears soak through my clothes, burning deep into my soul. How could I have been so cruel to Mitch? He loves me so much and all I can think about is Logan.

"Mia," he says. "I know there's no way I can convince you that Logan's not right for you. So you go to him, spend as much time as you want and I'll be here for you when you return."

"You'd do that for me?" I ask incredulously.

He lifts up his head, his face red and swollen, and nods.

That evening I sleep alone, my heart aching with indecision as I try to decide between the man I love, yet barely know, and the man who has been here for me. Why must I constantly assume the worst about Mitch? He loves me and says he will change, but deep inside I feel he won't.

I toss and turn most of the night and when I wake, puffy eyed and groggy, my decision has been made.

I drag myself out of bed, pull on my robe and check on Tyler, but he is not in his crib. Tendrils of panic wrap around me and only stop when I hear a faint cry from the family room. I walk as quickly as my clumsy legs allow and find Mitch resting back in the sofa, Tyler snuggled in his arms.

I step out view, a smile creeping across my face as I watch Mitch rub his nose on the bottom of Tyler's foot. There is an unmistakable cooing and then a giggle -Tyler's first giggle. My heart swells with joy as I watch them bond, but it is soon replaced with sadness at the realization that Mitch's heart will be broken when he learns Tyler is Logan's child.

I round the corner, approach Mitch, say nothing as I take the baby from his arms.

Mitch looks up at me with tired eyes. "I didn't want to wake you. He was hungry."

He plumps the pillow next to him; I sit back, then give my nipple to Tyler.

Mitch leans forward, resting his forearms on his legs, turns to me and says, "Are you taking Tyler with you?"

My heart seizes for one brief moment. I cannot look him in the eye as I say, "Yes."

Mitch springs from the sofa and starts pacing the room, stopping every so often to push his fingers through his hair and release a sigh, each louder than the last. I fear he may burst into a rage.

"You knew I'd go," I say shakily.

He nods his head, then presses his fingers to his eyes, and begins gasping between sobs. Taking a deep breath, he places his hands on his hips and says, "Mia, I know you're only infatuated with Logan and you'll learn that soon enough, but it's so hard for me to let you go, and to take Tyler with you?" His hand rises to his mouth as he tries to muffle a heart wrenching sob.

"I'm sorry Mitch. I want you to know that I do love you, but I long for Logan…I know I didn't spend a lot of time with him…" - I gulp hard – "but I feel like he's the one."

Mitch looks up at me, his eyes burning with unmistakable hate. "Ok, then go to him. I'm not stupid. I know you have his number memorized."

I fix my sights on Tyler as if seeing Logan's eyes in his is enough to convince me I am doing the right thing. Mitch approaches with an angry step, grabs my arm and yanks me off the sofa.

"Mitch, please, Tyler," I scold as I stiffen my arms.

"You need to go now Mia. I can't stand the sight of you. Go now!"

I open my mouth to protest, but the sadness in his eyes and the rage that bubbles beneath makes me stop.

I take Tyler with me to the master bedroom and place him on the bed while I pack my bag. Mitch checks on me every so often, making sure I am not wasting time.

I do not see Mitch when I leave the house, but hear the click of the deadbolt behind me. I want to turn back, look through the glass door and tell him I love him, but don't.

As I pull out of the drive, I look back through the rear view mirror and wonder if this is the last I will ever see of Mitch. I hold my breath and look every few seconds, only releasing the air that threatens to explode my lungs when the house is no longer in sight.

Pulling off the road, I search through my purse, panicking that I may have forgotten my phone. My heart begins to surge, relaxing only after my fingers touch the cold metal case.

I dial Logan.

"Mia, beautiful, will I be seeing you this weekend?"

"How about now?" I cry. "Mitch has kicked me out of the house."

"With a baby?" His voice edges with anger. "Why? You told him about me?"

"He heard me on the phone with you and told me I could go to you…see if I want to be with you."

A deep sigh meets my ears. "Oh Mia, he's not going to let you off that easy. You come to me, stay with me."

"I love you Logan," I say through gentle sobs.

"I can't wait to hold you, smell you, make love to you," he returns with a guttural voice that makes my thighs tingle.

I quickly make my way to Logan's house, trying to be mindful of Tyler and not exceed the speed limit.

When I pull into the drive, I look long and hard at the small house before me. It's not opulent like the home provided by Mitch, but the garden bed that hugs the sides, gives it a lived-in feel.

I shut the engine and look over my shoulder at Tyler. He stirs, releases a yawn, clinches his fists tight and begins to cry. Jumping out of the car, I race to the back seat and pull him out of his carrier, cradling him in my arms as I fumble for my nipple.

"Hello Mia," says a deep voice and before I can turn to see who it is I am pushed to the side and a warm arm reaches around my waist.

"Logan," I say, beaming with delight, recognizing his voice instantly.

I turn to him, my smile stretching so wide it aches.

His lips press hard against mine and I gently push my tongue into his mouth, savoring his silky warmth. His hand falls behind my head and pushes me harder into him as if he wants to swallow me. He releases to capture his breath, then begins to plant small kisses down my neck. He stops at my collar bone, returns to my neck and begins to nipple, his bites getting harder as he slowly makes his way down.

I moan out, my loins burning with desire, but then a muffled cry breaks my moment of ecstasy.

"Tyler," I gasp.

Logan's eyes fix on me, his love penetrating to my very soul, making every fiber in my heart explode with joy.

"I'm sorry Mia, I just had to taste you, smell you." His hand falls on my breast and down to Tyler as he gently sucks my nipple.

"He's beautiful," he says, leaning in close to me and begins to stroke the baby's cheek. "His eyes are mine." His voice bursts with joy.

I cannot peel my eyes from Logan and wonder if I am dreaming he is alive. His square jaw protrudes from beneath the mat of hair that covers his face. It's not the smooth look I am used to from when he was at the base, but it adds a roughness that excites me. Without thinking I raise my hand and begin to stroke his cheek with my index finger. The prickling sensation excites me and I long for him to nuzzle my neck again, grating me with his unruly hair.

My breath escapes me in a single loud gasp as Logan draws me into his chest, careful not to pull in too hard and crush Tyler. His mouth finds mine again. He releases me after a long, passionate kiss. I look into his sparkling green eyes, and my heart begins to pound, the throb so intense I can feel it in my ear drums.

"I love you Logan," I say. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

He brushes back my hair with one giant sweep of his hand, then removes Tyler from my arms. "He's done feeding, let's go inside."

As we approach the house, its age becomes more apparent. The screen door is missing a few screws and wobbles as Logan opens it. The screening is torn in the corner, and flaps in the light breeze. When I enter the smell of baked food hits me, filling the air with warmth and love, making me feel I am where I belong.

"Have a seat," says Logan. "My mother went out, but she made some muffins if you want one."

"No," I say, having an appetite only for Logan.

I plop down on a battered sofa in the small family room. Scanning my surroundings, my eyes fall on the countless pictures that hang on the walls and one in particular of a man in uniform grabs me.

"Is that your brother?" I ask, seeing a face similar to Logan's. I immediately regret my words when the shine in Logan's eyes diminishes like a light bulb ready to pop.

"Yes," he says.

"I'm…I'm so sorry," I say and make a start to rise.

"It's okay, Mia," he reassures me as he gently pushes my shoulder, making me stay seated. "It's just been a lot harder on my mother than me…you know since I almost died too."

"I can imagine." I stare blankly across the room as an uncomfortable silence falls upon us. It occurs to me that I do not know Logan well, but I am determined to learn and make it work.

"Come here, I want to show you something," He says in a lifted tone, then races to the back of the house. I spring from the sofa and quickly follow.

"This is our room, for now," he says. "And this is my bassinet." A smile spreads across his face as he lays Tyler in the crib.

A full bed is pressed against the wall, nearly taking the entire space of the room, and beside it is a toy size night stand.

"I know it's not what you expected…or even deserve Mia." He folds me into his arms. I bury my face into his chest and inhale his sweet scent. "I know he is a better provider, Mia, but I promise you things'll get better for us. I go Colorado in a few weeks and…"

"Logan," I say as I fall back and stare up into his eyes. "I know things'll get better. You're one of the best men the Air force has…they told me that."

A crooked smile spreads across his face, then his lips press against my neck. Lifting me off my feet, he walks over to the bed and drops me on the mattress. With the carnal desire of a sailor who has been out to sea too long, he tears at my clothes. I twist my arms and legs, making it easier for him to undress me.

My breath grows heavy and I shudder with desire as he pulls off his shirt. His muscles are still well toned and bulge. His six pack rises up and down in rhythm with his lungs. He loosens his belt buckle and whips out the leather strap with a snap, the flex of his bicep making me groan in anticipation. His pants fall slightly, revealing the taught oblique muscles leading to his penis. A small patch of fury hair shows, heightening my burning desire.

He grabs me by the arm and roughly flips me onto my abdomen. I wince as the leather belt falls hard across my buttocks. I catch my breath and again, only harder. I cry out in ecstasy.

Logan lowers on top of me, his throbbing penis thumping hard against my lower back.

"Mia," he says, his breath steaming my ear and warming my neck. "I missed you so much."

"Me too," I whisper. "Take me Logan." I close my eyes and feel my body begin to tremble.

He rolls me over, reaches his arms under my legs and penetrates me with a hard thrust. I throw back my head and arch my back as a moan escapes me. His chest rubs against mine, the moist, prickly hair exciting me further. His fingers find their way through my locks, pulling my head back as his teeth sink into my neck. I scream out in pain and pleasure as we orgasm together.

"It's been too long," says Logan as he rolls off me.

I laugh. "It has."

He lifts on an elbow, turns to me and begins to stroke my cheek. "Mia, I'm going to Colorado in a few weeks and…well…I don't want to go without you."

"What can we do?" I ask, suddenly feeling panicked. "Why can't you stay here?"

"It's where I'm stationed; besides Colorado is home for me Mia. I have a lot of great childhood memories there. My mom moved out here for my brother and she wants to stay." He stops, catches an emotional breath, then continues. "I want to be with her, help her and dad, but this just isn't home for me."

"I understand." I look into his eyes, feeling sympathetic and willing to do anything he asks of me.

"Mia, I know this may be a little soon, but given that little Tyler is our baby and all-"

"Yes," I say, lifting up on my elbows.

Logan laughs. "And what did you think I was going to say?"

"To marry you?"

"Yes," he says and plants his soft lips on mine.

I pull away and say, "Mitch and I...I can have the marriage annulled, quickly." A spark of excitement surges through me, but is snuffed out by the serious expression on Logan's face.

"Mia, I'm guessing he's on the birth certificate."

"So…he's not the father."

Logan shakes his head as if I have made an innocent comment one might expect from a child.

"What is it?" I ask, feeling a bit miffed by his reaction.

He pushes me back into the mattress, grabs my hand and begins to rub it. "I'm not a lawyer like Mitch and I'm certain he's smart and not going to just let go. It's going to be a battle. Are you ready?"

"Of course I am. I love you Logan…and…I want to be with you. When I first met you on base I wasn't sure and felt guilty cheating on Mitch, but when I almost lost you..." I stop, choking back the sob that rises in my chest.

Logan falls on his back and pulls me on top of him. "I'll find us a good attorney. In the mean time you and Tyler stay here with my mom. My dad won't be back for at least a month, he's driving his truck across country. Once we're married you can be transferred."

"Your mom?" I ask, fear gripping me. "What's she going to think of me? No I have to find another place to stay."

"Mia, relax," he says in as soft a voice as possible. "I told her I had a girlfriend who I loved and that we planned on marrying before you got pregnant, and before I got sick."

"What did she say…about Mitch?" I ask, my voice trembling.

"I explained to her that you were alone and scared and thought I was dead, which is why you married him."

I prop myself up on my forearms and stare deeply into his eyes, holding back the tears that pool in my lower lids. "You know Logan, you're right that's exactly why I married him…that and feelings of guilt. It's so obvious and I never realized it." I fall back on his chest, his damp hair clinging to the side of my face. "I trust you Logan and I love you, but I won't be comfortable staying here with your mom…I want to find my own place and find childcare for Tyler…I don't want to be a burden."

"Mia, relax. My mother is excited about the baby and we don't want him in childcare. She's retiring in a week and she'll take care of him so you can work. It'll give her something to do."

"Okay," I say as I release a sigh and start to feel my muscles relax.

As we lay in each other's arms my thoughts drift to Mitch. His burning, bloodshot eyes are etched in my memory and cannot be shook. Ella was so nice to me, what is she going to think – feel when she discovers Tyler is not Mitch's baby and that I have left him? I close my eyes tight, pushing the thought from my mind. It no longer matters. I love Logan and plan to spend the rest of my life with him. I'll make a quiet exit from Mitch's life. But as much as I desire a peaceful end, I cannot help but feel Logan's words are all too true – it's going to be a battle.

"Logan, I'm going to call Mitch and tell him I want a divorce," I say with conviction.

"Don't do that yet Mia," he warns. "I think we should go over there when he's not home and get your things first."

I lift up my head and say, "But I don't want to be sneaky. I just want to tell him how I feel and solve this amicably."

Logan releases a chuckle with a little snort, brushes my hair behind my ear and says, "Mia, don't be so naïve, he is not going to just let you go that easy."

"But he let me come here to you," I say, my eyes searching his.

"Mia, he's not a nice person." His expression sours and he gently pushes me off to the side. Sitting up, he rests his forearms on his legs and releases a heavy sigh. His head hangs low and he reaches up and begins to scratch his beard. "He's still a suspect in my attack." He slowly turns my way, his seriousness sending a spark of fear through me.

I shake my head and say, "I know, but he's been cleared."

"No Mia, Ben's been cleared…and only Ben."

"I don't understand," I say, knowing very well what he is saying. My heart begins to pound in my ears and a cold chill sweeps across my body.

Logan clasps his hands and begins to rub them together. His eyes linger on me, his serious expression unwavering. "Mia he has a history of violence…from the time he was a partner in crime with his father-"

"But I know about that," I interrupt. "His father forced him into it and he never hurt anyone."

Logan straightens, grabs my hand and squeezes hard. "Mia, he got away with the crime…everyone knew it, but there wasn't enough evidence. His father covered for him."

"How do you know all this?" My face flushes.

"I read the case files…I have been very involved in the investigation of my own attack…once I was conscious. And Mia, they've been sending me to see hypnotist to spark a memory…anything from that night…nothing yet, but it'll come soon, I hope."

"I can't believe it," I gasp. "Ben was right all along. How could I be so stupid?"

"It's okay Mia, you're innocent, you couldn't see through his act-"

"I'm not innocent, God damn it!" I yell, my sobbing turning to anger. "I wish people'd stop saying that. I'm fucking stupid…that's what I am…stupid." I spring from the bed and begin to pace, my rage only subsiding when I hear Tyler whimper.

Logan races to me, folding me into his arms. His warm, soft skin providing the comfort I need as I cry, releasing all of the stress that has been building up inside me. He strokes my hair and guides me to a small chair in the corner of the room. Bending on his knee, he lifts my chin and says, "Mia, calm down…You're not stupid alright. Tyler's hungry, can you feed him?"

I nod my head, and look after Logan admiring his tapered, muscular back and tight buttocks as he ambles to the crib. His calmness has a cathartic effect on me. My breathing slows and I feel my heart returning to a normal beat. He returns, gently handing me Tyler. The baby eagerly attaches to my breast and begins to suck. Logan kneels beside me, stroking my hair and as I look into his eyes, a crooked smile spreads across his face. Whatever Mitch has up his sleeve I am ready, Logan is ready and I secretly vow that I will never let Mitch hurt anyone I love again. This, I tell myself, is a promise I definitely cannot break, it is a matter of life and death.

"Mia, Mia." I stir my from my restful slumber, drag open my eyes and see Logan.

"What is it?" I ask groggily, happy that I am with the man I love and not dreaming.

"Tyler needs to eat." He grabs my shoulder and shakes me.

"What time is it?" I ask as I lift my head, looking for a clock.

"It's morning, c'mon my mother needs to leave for work and I want you to meet her."

I sit bolt upright, fear pulsing through my body. "This is too much shock for me first thing in the morning."

"It's okay, she knows you're here," he insists as he pulls the covers off me.

I fumble through my suitcase, find my robe and wrap myself as tight as a mummy. With deliberate slow steps I enter the small kitchen.

Whimpers from Tyler, heart wrenching to a new mother, grab my attention. I instinctively approach Logan's mom and pull him from her thin arms. Cold, blue eyes fall on me and in a flash I feel her pain and hardship.

"He's out of bottles," she says hoarsely.

"I…I'm sorry…I wasn't prepared," I stammer.

"Neither one of you were, apparently," she snaps back.

The easy task of placing my nipple into Tyler's mouth becomes torturous as my rattled nerves take over my every movement.

"Mom this is Mia, the girl I love," says Logan as he places a warm hand on my shoulder, pulls out a chair and guides me to it.

Mrs. McCoy releases a humpf, slides back her chair and goes to the sink. I look at her back, shaken and in utter disbelief. She hates me. She knows I am trouble and maybe she is right.

"I'll buy some formula after he feeds," I say, looking at Logan for support. "I must've forgotten it. It was irresponsible…it won't happen again."

"It's okay Mia…you've been under a lot of stress."

"You too," interjects his mother. "It's not safe for her to be here. The killer is still loose."

I cast my eyes down, taking comfort in Tyler's beautiful face. For an instant I wonder if he is the only person in the world who will ever love me.

"Mom, I love Mia and we are going to get married and raise Tyler together. I know you're upset, but I cannot live without her," Logan says with conviction.

I flash my eyes to Logan, my heart bursting with joy. How could I have thought for one second that he did not love me? He cannot live without me, and just then I realize that I too cannot live without him. The thought of us being separated makes my chest ache with sadness. Reaching up, I grab his hand and squeeze.

"I need to go to work," say Mrs. McCoy. She turns from the sink, her eyes lingering on me. "I'm sorry, Logan loves you and you have a child together. You two are just so young and have jumped into this relationship so quickly. I just hope your love endures." A weak smile spreads across her face and she leaves.

"Logan, why didn't you warn me that she hates me?" I am more hurt than angry.

He strokes my hairs, pulls a chair beside me and says, "She doesn't hate you, she's just worried for me. She's been through a lot and she doesn't want me to fuck up."

I lift burning eyes on him. "So I'm a fuck up?"

"No Mia, of course not, but look at it from her point of view. I get a girl I barely know pregnant, then almost get killed…you understand."

"Perfectly," I say, "you almost got killed because of the girl you knocked-up."

"It doesn't matter. I'd do it all over again just to be with you Mia." He voice begins to rise. "Look, I'm not judging you. You know by now that I've been with plenty of girls and you don't care."

"That's different, none of those girls tried to kill you or me. It's my fault…what happened to you. If only I could see people for what they are and never gotten involved…if only I hadn't led them on, hoping, wanting, needing affection. Affection I never got as a child." I want to cry, but my anger reins victor.

Logan gently lifts Tyler from my arms, leaves the room, then returns. He folds me into his chest, helps me from the chair and carries me into the bedroom. Placing me on the mattress he unties my robe and pulls it open. His hands fall on my outer thighs and work their way up my abdomen, sending shivers up and down my spine. His warm, soft fingers grasp hold of my breasts and massage them with gentleness uncommon to him.

"Mia," he says as he enters me. "I love you and I don't care about who've you've slept with or what romantic missteps you've made. You're beautiful, sweet and yes, innocent. I know how much you hate to hear it, but it's what makes you so attractive to me."

He stops, brushes back my hair and stares into my face. I fall deep into the green ocean of his eyes, swimming in them, feeling his soul and say nothing. It's understood. He smiles, his square jaw clenching and looking sexier than ever. He begins to pull out, and just when I think he is going to exit me he plunges back in. He continues at this with such great skill that I do not anticipate a clumsy mistake. It's a pleasure beyond all others and I let myself go.

He falls back on the mattress next to me. I throw myself on his chest, burying my nose into his hair, inhaling the sweet sweat.

"Mia," he says. "We need to get Tyler's food and I think we should also get your stuff."

I'm not prepared for this and feel like a moment of bliss has been ripped from me. "Let's get the food, but can't we wait on the other?"

"No Mia, the sooner the better. I'm meeting with the lawyer today and Mitch will be served tomorrow."

I turn back and stare lovingly into Tyler's cherub face. He releases a squeaky yawn, raises a fist, then falls back into a peaceful slumber.

The car stops. "We're here," says Logan.

I know we are, but cannot bring myself to look at the house.

"Mia did you hear me?"

"Yes Logan." I lift my eyes, meeting his.

His hand falls on top of mine and he rubs. "We need to do this Mia."

"And Tyler?" I ask, hoping he will reconsider.

"We'll be quick. He can stay in the car." He cracks the windows.

I hesitate, then dig through my purse for the house keys. The cold steel meets my fingers and I quickly pull them out and hand them over to Logan, as if they are hot and will burn through my fingers.

"Let's go Mia, He's not here, ok?"

I nod my head and finally look at the house. It seems to tower over the car, the windows like large eyes, peering down on me with a menacing stare. I shake away the feeling, replacing it with visions of Tyler playing on a swing set out back, which are now dashed, along with dreams of him in a baby inter tube, being pulled beside me in the pool.

I am startled from my thoughts when Logan opens my door.

"Are you coming?" he asks and reaches out his hand.

Taking a deep breath, I step out of the car and approach the front door. I can still hear the sound of the dead bolt clanking behind me after I left, and it sinks in that Mitch is not the person I thought he was. He has a plan and part of that plan is to get rid of Logan. There is no doubt in my heart that he tried to kill him.

I watch - my breath catching in my throat as Logan inserts the key into the lock. He turns, but it only moves halfway.

"Son of a bitch!" screams Logan. "He changed the lock."

"It's okay, I'll get my stuff later," I say as I squint over my shoulder at the car. The sun shines with full strength and I start to worry about Tyler. "It's getting hot; let's go…I don't have a lot of stuff anyway."

"You stay with Tyler, open the doors. I'm going to see if I can find a loose window." He roughly shoves the keys into my hand and begins to walk to the back of the house.

Remembering the security cameras Mitch had installed in the house in San Antonio I call out to Logan. "I think we should let your attorney take care of it."

"I'm not going to let that son of a bitch get away with this," he yells back at me.

I open my mouth to speak, but Logan's wrinkled, angry face stops me. I return to the car, open all the windows and sit with Tyler. I stroke his hair, the soft veiny skin of his scalp like cotton on my fingers. Looking into my child's face brings me peace, but an inexplicable panic rises in my chest and at any moment I feel like I could explode. We need to leave here and soon.

My eyes dart from Tyler to my surroundings and as if my prayers have been answered, Logan rounds the house and walks toward the car.

"It's all tight," he says, his brows furrowed. "He's getting served tomorrow so, hopefully we can get your things through the attorney."

"That's what I was thinking...damn, he's got my car too."

"Mia," he says and scoots in next to me. "We have each other and I know I can't give you everything this guy can, but I can give you my heart and respect."

A smile spreads across my cheeks. "I love you Logan and the only thing I regret is not realizing it until I almost lost you."

His lips fall on mine and I slide my tongue into his mouth. His kiss is soft, passionate and meaningful. I break for air. "I love you Logan."

"Let's get Tyler's food and then I'm taking you home."

The next day, I wake late in the morning, feeling happy and rested. Logan is already up and has Tyler in his arms. The baby flails his limbs in excitement, as if trying to show Logan how much he loves him.

A knock on the door distracts him and he looks up, seeing me.

"Hey beautiful," he says. "How're you feeling?"

"Good," I say.

Another knock, only harder.

Logan places Tyler into my arms and answers the door.

"She's right here, I can give it to her," I hear him say.

I sneak in closer, worried it may be Mitch.

"I'm sorry sir, but I'm here to serve Mia Barton."

I push past Logan and greet the uniformed officer.

"I'm Mia," I say with confidence.

The man gives me an envelope and tells me I have been served.

With trembling hands I pass the envelope to Logan and ask him to read it. I wait anxiously, rocking Tyler in my arms as I try to decipher every expression in Logan's face.

"Please, read it out loud," I say.

"He's divorcing you, and not only that," he crumbles the paper and throws it to the floor. "He's seeking full custody of Tyler and is accusing you of child abduction." He slams a fist into the foyer table, cracking the wood.

I jump and the baby begins to cry. "How can I abduct my own child?" I practically whisper, the shock of the situation not sinking in.

"I knew that son of a bitch would come at us like this."

"How…how could you know? I mean I thought he was a reasonable person."

"Mia, he has a history, I already told you that."

"What are we going to do?" I cry. I walk into the family room and crumble into the sofa, putting a finger in Tyler's mouth, soothing him.

"We're going to fight him and we'll win." He sits beside me and places a warm hand on my thigh.

"How can you know that?" I snivel.

"Because Mia, I'm certain he is the man who tried to kill me."

"I feel it too," I say. "That's why I was so afraid to be at his house. Oh Logan, let's just forget about my stuff and let's leave together to Colorado."

He folds me into his arms, plants a kiss of my head and says, "Mia, if you go AWOL you'll only make things worse. Look Tyler's mine and we'll need to prove it. We'll have a paternity test."

Logan leaves my side, his absence sending a chill through my body. After feeding Tyler, I lay him down in his crib, then crawl into bed. Anxiety takes over, yet somehow I fall into a deep sleep.

I wake, and squinting through blurry eyes, see Logan sitting in the wooden chair in the corner, Tyler cradled in his arms.

"Hey look who's up," says Logan as he rises, then sits on the edge of the bed. "Mia, I'm taking Tyler in first thing tomorrow for a paternity test. My lawyer has arranged everything."

"How soon will we know?" I ask, immediately wishing I could take back my words.

"We already know, don't we?" he says, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

"Not one hundred percent," I manage to squeeze through tight lips. Logan rises from the bed and I grab his arm, pulling him back down. I sit upright and say, "I'm sorry Logan, but we have to consider it. What if Mitch is the dad?"

"Then I guess I'll lose you Mia, you'll go back to him."

My hand flies up, slapping him hard across the face. "How dare you say that! I love you Logan."

He rubs his face and the crooked smile I've grown to love spreads across his cheeks. "Then you're willing to give up Tyler?"

"No, worst case scenario, Mitch will be a permanent part of our lives and we'll share custody of Tyler. Do you love me enough for that?" I push out with as much sarcasm as I can muster.

He reaches over and slaps me across the face, only gently, leaving a tingly burn. "How dare you," he returns. "I love you Mia."

We both laugh.

In the morning I wake to an empty bed and when I go to the kitchen I find Mrs. McCoy sitting at the table, staring blankly at the wall.

"Good morning," I say with a gulp.

"Mornin'"

"Um, have you had coffee? Let me make you some coffee," I blurt out as I race to the sink.

"Sit down Mia," she says, her voice softer than usual.

Panic rips through me as I pull out the chair next to her and sit on its edge.

Her eyes shift to me, boring through me, and her lifeless face droops more than I thought possible. "Mia, my son loves you and he loves this child. I hope to God it's his child."

My mouth drops and it seems to takes several minutes before I regain my composure. "I'm…I'm not a bad person…I've just made a lot of bad choices, but I love Logan."

"I hope so because I love my son and everything hinges on you?"

"How so?" I squeeze out, my head swimming in confused thoughts.

"This attorney ain't cheap and I've refinanced my house to help pay the fees."

My hands fly to my mouth as I make futile attempt to hold back the gasp that escapes me. "My God, I had no idea," I say. "I…I'd never allowed this. It's too much."

"It's done," she snaps.

I reach across the table and place a hand on her shoulder. Her sour expression softens. "I'll help pay it back, all of it. I promise. And you can be sure I love your son and he is the father."

"I better get goin'," she says as she rises from the table and makes a start for the door. She turns back. "I like you Mia, but until all this is settled, I'm not very trusting."

"I understand," I whisper.

The day drags on for what feels like forever and when Logan returns I race to the door to greet him. Tyler is awake and he places him in my arms. He squirms, feeling stronger than ever.

"He's restless," says Logan. "Be careful of his foot, they had to stick him there for blood."

I cradle the baby in my arms and follow Logan into the family room. "Well?"

Logan plops down on the sofa, stretches out his legs and looks up at me with a cocky smile. "When will we know?"

"In a couple of days." He releases a sigh, stretches his arms behind his head and releases a chuckle.

"What is it?" I implore.

I take a few steps toward him, but am confused by his behavior. I do not know Logan well at all, not enough to even know if he is hiding good news or bad news.

"My lawyer got an injunction for us – mostly you – to keep Tyler until the test results are back."

My eyes light up and a puff of happiness surges through me, making my heart feel weightless. I straddle Logan's lap, holding Tyler between us. Logan grasps my hips and pulls me forward.

"Logan, I love you," I say as I begin to thrust my hips back and forth.

He gently lifts me, grabs my shoulders and leads me into the bedroom. He lifts the crib with ease and puts it in the other room. I make an attempt to protest when he removes Tyler from my arms and leaves, but he dismisses me.

He returns, shutting the door behind him. I step back from his towering form, my body trembling in anticipation. He removes his shirt, revealing his six pack. His arms flex like perfectly carved bows as he fully undresses. I stare at him, in complete admiration of his fit body. I remove my own shirt, but when I begin to pull at my pants he sweeps me up into his muscular arms and drops me on the mattress. Like an animal he tears at my bottoms, casting them aside. His lips meet my neck as he positions himself between my legs. I yearn for him to enter me, to thrust like a jack hammer and make me feel pain, and then pleasure.

He inserts a finger inside me and rotates, slowly, teasingly and then pushes in another. I retract my legs and beg him to penetrate me. He shoves in another, his knuckles now rubbing hard against my pubic bone. He pushes deeper, the bone on bone causing me pain, but then he expands his fingers, making me yearn for more. He continues this until I orgasm. He then enters me and gently thrusts. I begin to relax again and a rush of pleasure soon takes over my senses. He knows this, feels this, and begins to thrust harder and harder. My crotch is sore, but the pain becomes pleasure as we orgasm together.

He plants a gentle kiss on my forehead, then rolls off me. "Tomorrow's another day Mia. One day closer to it being just you, me and Tyler, building our lives together."

I stare up at the popcorn ceiling, watching the shadows play, then turn to Logan and caress his bulging pecs. "It's like a dream Logan. Even though things are scary right now, I feel like fate is finally on my side. Not too long ago I thought you were dead, but now I am here with you…you, the man I love…the father of my child."

Logan rolls on his side and wraps me in his arms. As we hold each tight, my thoughts wander to Tyler and I pray that Logan is indeed his father.

The next few days pass slowly and the stress begins to take hold of me. I cannot eat, sleep or even think about returning to work. It all comes to a head one evening when I eavesdrop of Logan and his mother.

"She's just worn out from all the stress," I hear Logan say.

"She's not sure you're the daddy," says Mrs. McCoy. "What am I going to tell your father when he returns? We're housing a girl you barely know and taking care of another man's child."

"Mom, you're being unfair. Mia has a good heart and she's not perfect. And you're not one to judge-"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she returns.

I ease closer to the room. "Mom, I wasn't that young, I remember the fights, and I remember her coming to the door and threatening you."

"Stop it!" she warns. "Besides I want the best for you. You know that."

"Mom, she's the one, I know it."

"I'm sorry son. I want you to be happy, but I also want us to have a home. I just hope we don't regret this."

"We won't mom, I promise."

When Logan enters the room I throw my arms around his neck and start to cry. "She hates me, I knew it."

"She doesn't hate you Mia, she just doesn't trust you yet, she's like that."

"Logan," I look into his eyes, afraid to ask.

A smile stretches across his face and he says, "You we're listening and want to know."

I smile, feeling embarrassed.

"I know you too well," he says. "My father was married when my mom got pregnant."

"Oh, I'd think she'd be a little more understanding."

"She's had a hard life Mia and she doesn't want the same for me. She'll grow to love you, of that I'm certain." He lifts my face, strokes my hair, and says, "I promise."

The next day, against Logan's wishes, I insist we go together to get the results. Having been locked in the house for so long, I am anxious to get out and breathe fresh air. I long for the sun to fall on my face and warm me.

"We don't have a lot of time," says Logan as he pulls on his shoes.

"You've got two hours, that's all the time I could get off," says Mrs. McCoy.

"I really appreciate you watching Tyler for us," I say, having difficulty making eye contact with his mom.

"Let's just hope we're not disappointed," she returns coolly.

I give Tyler one last kiss before I walk out the door, already missing him. The sun falls on my face and a tingle of excitement floods me. But feelings out guilt soon take away my happiness, never having been separated from Tyler before.

"Will he be okay?" I ask.

"Of course, Mia, my mom would never hurt him," returns Logan, his voice ripe with ire.

"I'm sorry," I say, "That's not what I meant. I'm…I'm just a little nervous." I turn to him, placing my hand on his. "I really appreciate this. I know it'd been easier just to call, but I want it to be just you and me hearing it together, and out of the house."

"I understand Mia, but I think you're being silly," His tone is upbeat.

"Maybe," I say, "If you're sure then I'm sure." My heart begins to leap with joy.

"He has my eyes Mia, and you're my soul mate, that's all I need to know."

I snuggle close to him as we drive to the clinic. When we pull into the parking lot, my heart begins to race. I brush back my hair and turn to Logan with wild eyes.

"Mia, are you okay?" he asks.

"Sure," I lie as I look around for Mitch's car.

What is wrong with me? First it was Ben I had to worry about, and now Mitch. I convince myself that deep inside I always knew neither of those men was good for me, but there was a time when I trusted them fully. What if I am wrong about Logan? What if he is an even worse monster? Mitch could at least support me and provide Tyler with a good life. What am I thinking? I love Logan and I want to be with someone I adore, not someone who can take care of me. Besides, as much as I want to pretend it's not true, I believe that Mitch was the one who attempted to kill Logan.

"Mia, let's go…c'mon," says Logan.

"Sorry," I say in a barely audible whisper.

We hold hands and walk into the clinic. We remain seated for only a short period of time until a clinician calls us into his office.

"Good day," says the man as he shuffles through some papers. "Are you Logan McCoy and Mia Maynard?"

My breath catches in my throat and an uncomfortable silence falls. "Yes," I say, then turn apologetic eyes to Logan.

"All right then, here's a copy of the DNA results." He hands Logan a paper.

Logan scans the paper like a kid eager to read a new comic book. I watch him and my eyes begin to twitch, making it difficult for me to concentrate on his reaction.

"Tell me," I implore, unable to read him.

He sets the paper on the desk and turns to me, his face in a scowl and my heart falls to my feet. I raise a hand to mouth and try to hold back the tears that lie just beneath the surface. Logan lunges forward, folding me into his arms.

I wonder if he has already accepted the situation and has forgiven me.

"I'm so sorry," is all I can says as he rocks me, and places gentle kisses on top my head.

"What?" he asks.

He places his warm, tender hands on my shoulders and pushes me back. He green eyes sparkle like magic and a single tear falls from the corner of his eye. Remorse floods my body and I am angry at myself, feeling I have let him down. Brave, stoic Logan has been reduced to tears and all because of me.

"Mia, this is the happiest day of my life," he whispers.

"I don't understand…you seem so upset."

"I'm not…I'm overcome with emotion…I'm Tyler's father."

I spring from my seat and release a cry of joy. Tears flood from my eyes, which I begin to wipe away furiously.

The clinician rises from his seat, congratulates us and leaves.

I throw myself into Logan's arms and he holds me tight, his muscular chest pushing hard against my heaving breast.

"I love you so much Logan and I know we're going to be happy together forever."

"We will Mia, I promise you that. Now let's go home and celebrate."

He wraps an arm around my shoulder and pulls me close. We giggle like school kids, young and in love. When we exit the building the sun seems to shine a little brighter and life has new meaning. This is happiest day of my life.

Logan opens the car door for me. "In you go my lady," he says.

I make a start to get into the car when the door violently slams shut. My heart momentarily seizes when I hear Logan groan and watch him fall to the ground. I turn quickly to see Mitch's burning blue eyes boring into me, his face a mask of fury.

Mitch grabs my arm. Logan struggles to pull himself up, but Mitch lands a kick to his side, sending him tumbling back down.

"Stop it!" I yell. "Stop it Mitch. You're no better than Ben!"

He twists my arm and pulls me close. "Judging by your happiness I guess Tyler is his," he sneers. "You thought he was dead so you thought you'd use me, right Mia? You're too insecure to get along in this world alone."

I shake my head. "No, Mitch…I thought I did love you…I do love you, but I love Logan…I love him in a very deep, emotional way."

Logan stumbles to his feet, his arm wrapped around his side. He struggles to straighten himself, but to no avail. He grabs his head and begins to moan.

"You've hurt him," I say, my voice grating with anger.

"And you've hurt me you whore! How could you do this to me Mia? I loved you…I still love you. I bought you a nice home. We're going to raise Tyler together and spend the rest of our lives together."

The pain in his eyes tear at my heart, but then I remember my vow – protect Logan, the man I love.

My eyes dart back and forth between Mitch and Logan. "My God, he's bleeding," I yell out as I struggle to break free from his grasp.

He yanks me hard, sending spines of pain through my arm. "Listen to me Mia. Forget him. He'll never be able to provide for you. He'll dump you for the next girl who comes along. I can be the man you want me to be. I can love you the way you want to be loved."

"I'm sorry Mitch, but my heart belongs to Logan and he's Tyler's father."

Logan stumbles forward and grabs Mitch by the shoulder, but he is weak and falls over as Mitch violently draws away from him.

Mitch tightens his grip on me and drags me away from the car. His bulging biceps which used to arouse my carnal desires suddenly become frightening.

"Please," I beg him. "Please let me go Mitch."

He jerks me forward, nearly knocking me off my feet. His face is only inches from my own and his upper lip curls as he angrily whispers, "I'll kill you if you don't come back."

He releases me, turns toward Logan and makes a start for him, but changes his mind. Quickly, he strides off.

I run back to Logan and help him to his feet.

"Are you okay?" I ask. "I need to take you to the hospital."

"No, I'm fine," says Logan. "I just want to go home."

I go against my better judgment, help him into the car and head back to the house.

We are quiet, then Logan speaks. "Mia, I'm sorry."

"For what?" I ask, my face wrinkling in confusion.

"For not being able to protect you…for letting him kick my ass."

"He blind-sided you," I say. "There was nothing you could do."

Logan slams an angry fist on the dashboard. "That's no excuse. He humiliated me in front of you, that fucking bastard!"

"We need to file a report with the police."

"No, I'm not some coward. I'll take care of him myself…that son of a bitch!"

"Stop it Logan, we're not playing games here. Stop the macho military act. We're going to the police"

"Mia, just let me deal with this my way," he says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Don't you see it'll benefit us if we can show he's violent," I plead.

Logan places a hand on my thigh. "Mia, just let me think about it okay?"

I nod my head.

We arrive home and Logan puts on his best smile and tells his mother the good news. Her typical stern expression relaxes and I feel an immediate acceptance from her. She promises to join in our celebration before she bounces out the door to return to work.

Logan goes to our room and collapses on the bed. I cuddle up next to him and lift his shirt. I press my fingers along his ribs and he winces.

"I know you're hurt and you need to see a doctor."

"Mia, what did he say to you?"

"I don't know. Just that he loved me-"

"When he pulled you away Mia," he interrupts angrily.

I have to take a moment to think. I hesitate, then say, "Um…he asked me to think it over and hoped I'd change my mind."

He rolls on his side and places a strong hand on my shoulder, pushing me into the mattress. "You're lying Mia, what did he say?"

His anger frightens me and I begin to panic. What if all men are like this?

"Logan, please, why are you angry with me?"

"I'm sorry Mia, but this is serious. After he struck me I had a flashback…from when I was attacked…It was him, I'm certain of that now."

I break free from his hold, sit up and begin to bang my head on the backboard. "Are you sure?" I ask.

"Mia, what did he say to you?" His hand clamps down on my arm.

I cannot look him the eye as I say, "That'd he kill me if I don't go back to him." I take a pause, then a deep breath, and continue, "We need to go to the police Logan."

"Maybe, but I want to think about it Mia." He releases me, puts an arm behind his head and stares at the ceiling.

"You have a plan don't you. Don't be stupid Logan, go to the police."

"I will Mia, I promise. Let's get some rest. I'm tired."

I look at his profile and can almost see his thoughts passing through his head. His brow furrows, and I can tell anger is building inside him.

"Logan," I whisper as I lay a soft hand on his rock hard abs. "Don't do anything stupid. Tyler needs his father and your mom her son."

He turns to me, his eyes boiling with rage. "Mia, don't even try to guilt trip me, okay? I'm a man and my wife has been threatened."

I smile and remind him I am not yet his wife.

"Look Mia," he says in a softer tone. "I want to face him myself; I don't want to lie to you. You've got to trust me."

"It's not you I don't trust," I say with a gulp. I turn away from him, hiding the tears that start to fall down my cheeks.

He rolls me back, mounts me and says, "I know what he is and what I'm dealing with. He caught me off guard today, but he won't next time."

"It's not just that," I snivel. "I don't want you to go to jail. You just can't take justice for yourself Logan. Be reasonable. You know he did it and he'll pay for it-"

He puts his hands on my shoulder, pressing me into the bed. His arms become tense and veiny. His masculinity excites me, but the anger in his eyes frightens me. "Mia, we don't have time to wait for the law, but I promise you this. I'll bring him to justice without doing anything illegal, okay?"

"But how?" I ask.

His penis is hard and he begins to press it on my abdomen. The anger begins to melt away from his face and his eyes sparkle.

"Leave that to me, its best you don't know," he says sternly.

I make a start to talk, but he puts a hand over my mouth. He spreads his legs, opening mine and roughly penetrates me. I want to be angry at him, leaving me out of the loop, but realize he is protecting me. He is going to do whatever he wants anyway, and its best I do not know. I trust him with all my heart, and with that I relax, letting myself go.

Afterward, we fall into each other's arms, the warmth of his skin soothing me. I try to sleep, but I can feel him awake and know he is formulating a plan. For the first time in my life I feel secure with a man, the man I am going to spend the rest of my life with.

My anxiety floats away like a raft on the ocean and I drift off into a peaceful slumber. Visions of Logan in a tuxedo and me in a white gown dance in my head. My heart flutters with excitement as I walk the aisle, my eyes fixed on Logan at the altar. A whimper distracts me, I ignore it, but then it becomes a heart wrenching cry. I look over my shoulder and see Mitch, his pearly white teeth flashing under his curled lip, with Tyler in his arms. The baby kicks and struggles. I make a start to run to him, but my legs don't move.

"You okay Mia?" asks Logan, shaking me.

I struggle to breathe. I know I am dreaming, but cannot break free from the paralysis that grips me. Logan shakes me hard and continues to call my name. I pull out of my sub consciousness and meet Logan's eyes.

"I'm fine," I lie, "just a bad dream."

"Want to talk about it?" He squeezes my arm warmly.

"No," I say, and turn on my side, knowing I will not be going back to sleep.

I hope you enjoyed my novel. I am planning on writing a sequel. After all, we cannot let Mitch get away with he did, can we? After a review and edit, I will post on smashwords. I welcome any feedback and suggestions, and look forward to hearing from fans of my story. I can be contacted through my blog and email:

pussonapelona


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